From Ivan, To Emily(With Love)
by hetabibliophile
Summary: Ivan, Kateryna, and Natalya have been driving all over the Amercian countryside, looking for someone to hire ex-Soviets. A chance meeting at a Kansas diner leads them to work, by a girl who calls herself Emily. As they begin work on the Jones', Ivan and Emily become pen pals. Friends (and more) by words is a beautiful thing. Eventual RusAme, side Gerita, AmeChu, one-sided RoChu
1. Chapter 1

**A/N(1): This will be rated mature due to some upcoming implications of war-time violence that leads to deaths. There are not any sex scenes that cause this rating (or sex scenes in general). When there is violence mentioned, I will put a note here so readers can be warned. It's also just to be safe.**

* * *

"Kateryna, when will we find somewhere to live? This is ridiculous, nobody wants ex-Soviets working for them," Ivan complains from the driver's seat.

"Oh, chin up, Vanya. I have a good feeling about Kansas. It's called the Sunflower State, and has good omen just radiating from it. I'm sure we'll be able to find farm work. But first, let's find something to eat," Kateryna replies.

Ivan's younger sister, Natalya, points at a diner. "I have found food."

Ivan pulls up in the parking lot, then parks the car. He locks it, and then they all walk in together.

Ivan, Natalya, and Kateryna are siblings. Kateryna is the eldest, Natalya the youngest, and Ivan is the middle child. All of them, ex-Soviets, had only just moved to Kansas. The land of sunflowers… With not much else than the clothes on their backs they hoped to find work in this new state. It was another new beginning… It was exciting, nerve racking, but most of all they were nervous. They had every right to be…

A brunette in a stewardess uniform walks up to them, all smiles. "Party of three?" They nod. "Right this way, sir and madams," the girl says. "Here are your menus, and your waitress will be here momentarily." She smiles and walks away.

"Ugh, Americans," Natalya mumbles. "Don't say that," Kateryna hisses, spotting a girl who looks like she may be their waitress.

The blonde, who is about Natalya's age walks up to them. "Hi," she says, a smile on her face. "I'm Emily, and I'll be your waitress today. Can I get your drink orders, or do you need more time? I can also give you any information on any of the food, if you have any questions."

"Ah—yes, what do you recommend?" asks Ivan.

She grins, and says, "Okay, well, I'm a hot dog girl, and I totally recommend our hot dogs if you're into that. My older brother, however, is into hamburgers, and that's what we're known for. Drink-wise, our milkshakes are rockin', and I totally recommend them. My brother has always said that pop has always gone great with our burgers. Does that help out at all?"

The middle sibling nods, and looks at his sisters. There is a pause as they all seem to speak without words to one another. "Can we have a bit more time?" he finally asks.

"Of course! I'll come back in a few minutes to take your orders." She walks off.

"I think that dish, the hamburger with a milkshake, sounds good," Kateryna comments.

"All of this food sounds disgusting," Natalya huffs. Ivan knew how hotheaded his little sister could be, and how she was judgemental… Yet still, every sneer and huff made him wish for the old Natalya that was sweet and kind as almost all children are, and the way she once was.

Natalya, please, stay open-minded," rebukes Ivan.

"Sorry, Vanya," she replies. "

You like meat, da? Order the meatloaf. Americans make it differently, I've heard it tastes good. And it is fine, do not worry." He smiles at his younger sister.

* * *

A short while later, Emily returns. "How about now?"

Ivan nods. "I will have the pork chop dinner, with water please. My older sister," he points at Kateryna, "will have a hamburger with a vanilla milkshake, and my younger sister will have the meatloaf with water as well." It was instinctive to order for his sisters. He knew they could do it themselves but… it just seemed better to do it for them.

Emily nods, and then says, "I'm going to repeat your order back at you, make sure I have it right." Pointing at Kateryna, she says, "You want a hamburger with a vanilla milkshake." Her finger turns to Ivan. "You want the pork chop dinner with water." It finally goes to Natalya. "And you want meatloaf with water." They all nod assent. Emily grins widely. "Great! I'll come back with two waters and a vanilla milkshake momentarily. You," she says, pointing at Kateryna again, "are in for a real treat. I like you." Kateryna giggles, and Emily walks away.

* * *

The siblings are eating away at their food, and Emily comes to check on them. "How's the food, everybody?"

"Lovely, your brother has good taste," Kateryna replies. Ivan bobs his head happily in agreement, and even Natalya is pleased.

"Great! I'm glad to hear that! I helped make everything myself," she grins. "Do you guys want anything else, like dessert maybe?"

They all shake their head. "No, we are so full! Everything was delicious." Kateryna says sweetly.

"Okay, do you want me to bring out the check?"

"Yes, please," Ivan responds. Emily swiftly returns with the check. As Ivan fills it out, he decides to take the plunge. "Do you know of anybody who is hiring three farmers, offering food and lodging in exchange? My siblings and I are looking for work."

Emily scratches her chin thoughtfully. "Actually, yes. My dad has wanted a couple of farmhands for a while, and is willing to give them food and board. He was going to ask around, but he hasn't done so yet. If you'd like, you guys could take me home, and then you could talk to my dad, you're my last table for the day."

They all look at each other, shocked that this diner had given them so much good fortune. Is fate now on their side?

* * *

"So, we're most likely going to end up living together. Would you guys mind telling me your names? My full name is Amelia Jones, but I go by Emily for personal reasons."

Kateryna starts first. "I am the oldest. My name is Kateryna Chernenko. I am half Ukrainian and half Russian."

Then Natalya. "I am the youngest, half Belarusian and half Russian. My name is Natalya Arlovskaya."

Finally, Ivan introduces himself. "I am the middle child, and am fully Russian. My name is Ivan Braginsky."

"So you guys are ex-Soviets, right?" Emily doesn't sound put off or disgusted by this, but in a tone that suggests she is genuinely interested.

"Yes," Kateryna replies. "We all share a father, with Ivan being his only legitimate child. Our mothers are all dead, and we wanted a better life than the one our father was willing to give Natalya and I. Ivan joined us, out of love. And now we are here, looking for work, so we can start our lives in America."

Ivan winces as he hears Kateryna explain how they are here and why. He wonders how long it will take until Emily tells them that she no longer thinks her father needs their services. But she shocks him, with her response. She says, "I'm glad that you guys are here now, that you recognized that you needed a better life. You guys seem great. It's even better that you have a good relationship with one another, even though you're only related by half."

"You do not mind that we are Soviet Union born?" asks Natalya.

"No, why would I? You've never done anything wrong to me. In fact, you guys are the best customers I've ever had. I only dislike Stalin, and that's only cause he seems like a jerk. He just gives off a jerk vibe, you know? But no, that's just part of your birthplace, but you guys aren't Soviet just cause you were born there. " Emily smiles at them, and Natalya's lips turn up slightly.

* * *

When they pull up, Mr. and Mrs. Jones run out to greet them. Emily walks out, after thanking them for the ride. She runs up to her father, and pulls him and her mother aside. She then holds up her hand at the siblings, as though to tell them, _please give me a moment_. When she finishes explaining, she gestures for them to come forward with their things.

Mr. Jones, a man with blonde hair brighter than his daughter's and thick eyebrows and green eyes, looks stern. His wife is softer, with brown hair clipped up and purplish-blue eyes, and a kind face.

"So, my daughter tells me all three of you are willing to work. She's explained everything to me. It's fine with me, as long as you don't mind living in the cottage on the farmland. We also have animals, and anywhere you're willing to help, we'd like the help. Of course, you'd get paid as well. Not as much, of course, because you're getting food and boarding, but if you would all agree to the terms, we're more than happy to have you."

"Yes sir, we'd love the job, thank you. We accept all of your terms." Kateryna smiles brightly.

"Lovely," the man said. "Now, I heard that you all had dinner already, but can we possibly interest you in seconds? My wife is the best cook this town's ever seen."

"It is true, I am," the woman says.

"Ah, no, thank you though. We'd love to get settled in, so we can prepare to work tomorrow." Mr. Jones looks horrified. "You won't work until Monday! We want to give you the weekend to get settled in, before you work! Also, Amel-"

" _Emily_ ," says Emily, annoyed, angry, and _heartbroken?_

"Oh yes, _Emily_ needs to show you all around town, so you can familiarize yourselves with it." They all nod, happy that the family is so kind.

Emily then says, "I'll show you guys to your house, and then I'm going to go eat, if you don't mind. Then, I'll come back so I can explain where we're going tomorrow." They all nod, and Emily shows them to their new home.

* * *

Ivan is putting his room together, when he realizes he has no stationary. He calls out tentatively, "Emily?"

"Yeah?" Her answer is immediate and while Ivan is slightly surprised at this, he is also grateful.

"Do you have any pens and paper? I like having things that may be necessary in the future."

"Oh yeah, anything in particular that you'd like?" "No, just simple paper and pens, nothing too fancy. You are all generous enough." Ivan smiles tentatively. He is terrified that his request is too much, that maybe Emily will feel he is asking far too much of her. He wants her to like him so that they can stay here, on this nice farm with these nice people who treat them like they are equals.

"I'll come back soon with your stationary stuff." Emily walks out. She doesn't seem annoyed at all, but actually a little nervous. She comes back, holding a box that has what Ivan assumes to have the items he requested. She smiles at him. "Here," she says. Handing him the box, she continues with, "Can I ask you something?"

He likes Emily, he's grateful that she was able to get them a job. "Of course, anything. What is it?"

She blushes and says, "Can we write letters to each other? Like, I really like writing letters to people, and I'd like for us to write letters to one another. I—I want us to be friends, but I know we can't really hang out that much, and so this way I think I'd be easier. Is that weird? I'm sorry, you don't have-"

He cuts her off. A warm sensation starts to build in his stomach. He's touched that this girl would want to be friends with a Soviet. "That sounds like a great idea, da? But how do you propose we get letters to each other?" He winces when he realizes that he said _da_ , something he shouldn't say here in America.

"So I know how to get in here, but I'd just leave it in that letterbox outside. You can also leave your letters there, and I'll get them in the morning. Does that work for you? You'd just write on the outside ' _To Emily, From Ivan_ ' and on my letters to you, I'd write ' _To Ivan, From Emily_ '. That way, we can tell who they're for, 'cause I gave you some of my stationary." He smiles and agrees with Emily's idea. "When do I write to you?" "When you get your first letter from me." She grins and says, "I have to go back to the house. I'm gonna say bye to Kateryna and Natalya before I go. So bye, Ivan, I'll see you tomorrow. Get some rest, we're gonna hit the town tomorrow." She grins and waves goodbye, and he waves back.

 _Today_ , he thinks to himself, _was one of the best days ever_ , because he made his first real friend. He smiles, and goes off to help Kateryna and Natalya set up their room, excited for the days and letters to come.

* * *

 ** _ex-Soviets:_ during the fifties, McCarthyism was rampant, and this was the height of Cold War hate towards the Soviets in America because of McCarthyism and the McCarthy Witch Trials.**

 ** _Vanya:_ nickname for Ivan**

 ** _Sunflower State:_ Kansas' nickname (All states have a nickname. For example, California's is the Golden State). This is a good omen because Ukraine's national flower (and in some sources, Russia's as well) is the sunflower. And of course, because Russia loves sunflowers.**

 ** _hot dog girl:_ Fem!America's food of choice is the hot dog.**

 ** _older brother:_ her older brother is America/Alfred. Canada and fem!Canada, in this fic, will be their cousins.**

 ** _pop:_ In the fifties, soda was referred to as pop. This word is still used today in some parts of America.**

 ** _Mr. Jones, a man with blonde hair brighter than his daughter's and thick eyebrows and green eyes, looks stern-_ England is their father. He is British, but his last name happens to be Kirkland-Jones, because he has both his mother and his father's last names.**

 ** _His wife is softer, with brown hair clipped up and purplish-blue eyes, and a kind face-_ Fem!France is their mother. She is French, and she took on one of Arthur's last names, so she is Bonnefoy-Jones.**


	2. Chapter 2

_From the desk of Amelia F. Jones_

* * *

Cara Amelia,

You may be wondering why you got a letter addressed to you from South Italy that's not from your fratellone, your brother. Please don't throw away this letter!

Your fratellone, Alfred, met me while he was stationed here temporarily. He told me all about you, his sorellina! His sister! We're the same age, and I also have fratelli maggiori named Lovino and Romeo! I've always wanted to meet you! You may wonder how I know of you, besides your brother of course. We are cousins, from your mother's side! She's my tia Marianne!

Alfred had told me that you liked writing letters to people. I do as well! Would you be willing to write letters to me? I would love it, and we could become great friends!

Cordialmente,

 _Feliciana Alice Vargas_

P. S. Please tell mi zio Arthur and mi tia Marianne hello for me, I miss them quite greatly.

* * *

Dear Feliciana,

You saw Alfie? Man, my brother is just touring the world... Which is cool, but I wish that he was home instead.

Alfie told you I like writing letters? It's true; I do! Here in the States we call people who write to one another pen pals! I'd love to write to you! It's really cool that we're cousins too, it seems to me that it really is a small world. I'd also love to be friends, I don't technically have any. Well, Alfie is my friend and so are our other cousins, Meg and Mattie, but I don't see any of them; Alfie for obvious reasons, Meg and Mattie because they live in Canada.

Again, I'd really love to be pen pals! I'll wait for your next letter. Anything you want to talk about, I'll be here for you! I promise.

Your heroine,

 ** _Amelia Eleanor Jones_**

P. S. Mom and Dad say hi, and to please be careful :D

* * *

 **A/N(2): Quick update, this helps address how Amelia is the way she is today. Hopefully, I'll be able to update again quickly! See you soon!**

 **-Nelly ^J^**

 **Translations/Explanations**

 ** _Cara_ \- Dear (Italian)**

 ** _fratelli maggiori_ \- older brothers (Italian)**

 ** _Romeo_ \- Seborga. In this fic, he's the middle child of the Vargas family (I'm gonna take a little of artistic liberty on this, even though I know that he's technically the youngest canonly-speaking).**

 ** _Lovino_ \- Romano/South Italy. Oldest child of the Vargas family.**

 ** _sorellina_ \- little sister (Italian)**

 ** _tia_ \- aunt (Italian)**

 ** _Marianne_ \- Nyo!France's first name. Feliciana and Marianne are quite close.**

 ** _Arthur-_ England's first name.**

 ** _Cordialmente_ \- Yours Truly (Italian)**

 ** _Feliciana Alice_ \- North Italy. Her name is "Feliciana Alice" because I like name "Feliciano"and I feel like it suits Nyo! North Italy as well, and "Alice" is the suggested name Himaruya gave her.**

 ** _zio_ \- uncle (Italian)**

 ** _Meg-_ Nyo!Canada's nickname, full name being Marguerite.**

 ** _Mattie-_ Canada's nickname, full name being Matthew.**

 ** _Amelia Eleanor Jones-_ This used to be Amelia's name, up until the end of World War Two.**


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, Ivan wakes up to the sound of soft knocks coming from the door. He yawns, then gets up and walks over to the front door. When he opened the door Emily was standing on the other side.

"Hiya!" she says.

"Privet," he responds, smiling slightly at the girl.

"My mom's making breakfast. She wants to know if you guys would like to join us." She pauses, reaching into the pocket of her jeans. "Also, this is for you," she finishes, and then hands him an envelope. On it, it says in her writing, **_To Ivan, From Emily_**.

Ivan smiles a bit, and says, "Let me see, I will ask Kateryna and Natalya."

Emily simply smiles. "I'll wait; just come back to tell me their answers."

Ivan smiles back, then walks back inside to his sisters' room. He goes to Kateryna, the gentler of the two, and shakes her awake.

"Schcho? Schcho tse?" Kateryna mumbles, still half asleep.

"Emili i yeye sem'ya khochu znat', yesli my khoteli by prisoyedinit'sya k nim na zavtrak. Chto vy khtite mne skazat' Emili?"

"Okay, we will join them, please tell Emily thank you," Kateryna says, awakening suddenly. "I will wake up Natalya, do not worry, and we will be presentable to see them."

Ivan nods and leaves the room, going to tell Emily of Kateryna's response. On his way he unexpectedly passes by Natalya.

Natalya jumps to hug him, and he pats her on the back, a bit confused as to what's going on. "Hello, Natalya, is there something wrong?"

"Big Brother, please don't let us eat with the Americans, they are not trustworthy!" The poor girl looks desperate, almost scared, and Ivan cannot help but be annoyed.

"They have been nothing but kind to us, and so I suggest that you get ready, we are going to eat with them whether you like it or not." Cold. Stern. It's the only way to get through to his sister… He dislikes it, but it's necessary.

She glowers, but does what she's told.

* * *

Inside, Mrs. Jones is getting pastries out of the oven while Emily cuts up fruit. Mr. Jones is reading the newspaper and drinking a cup of tea. The siblings soon walk in, each smiling politely, though some of these smiles were more truthful than others.

"Hi, everyone," Mrs. Jones greets, "Come in, come in! Sit down, the food will be ready shortly."

"What do you guys want to drink?" Emily questions, her smile as bright as usual. "Mom, Dad, that question is directed at you as well!"

Ivan and Mrs. Jones point to coffee, Kateryna to milk, Natalya to juice, and Mr. Jones to tea. Emily starts brewing the coffee and tea, then gets out cups for all of them. She pulls out milk and juice next, pouring them all quickly and carefully. Meanwhile, Mrs. Jones begins to plate the pastries for everyone, and she then sets them down in front of seats.

"Is there anything I can do to help you, Mrs. Jones?" Kateryna asks.

"If you could put all of the cups that Amelia pulled out onto the table, that'd be great," she replies.

Kateryna nods, and does as she's told. She's happy to help. Amelia smiles at her, and Kateryna smiles back while Ivan and Natalya also help Kateryna with the cups.

Then, Mrs. Jones calls Mr. Jones, saying, "Mon cher, breakfast is ready," and gets a mumble in response. _That man,_ she thinks to herself lovingly. The Jones and the siblings all go sit down at the table, with Mr. Jones, Mrs. Jones, and Emily on one side of the table. Ivan and his siblings sit opposite with Ivan facing Emily, Kateryna facing Mr. Jones, and Natalya facing Mrs. Jones. They all get served their drinks by Emily, and then begin to eat.

When most are almost done with the meal, Mrs. Jones asks what is their plans for the day. Ivan answers with, "Emily said she'd like to show us around. I, nor my siblings, know where she is going to show us."

"Emily?" Mrs. Jones asks.

"Oh, Kateryna told me an interesting story about how they got here and how it had to do with sunflowers, and so I thought I could take them to the sunflower field, then show them around town."

Internally, Ivan is excited. He absolutely _loves_ sunflowers, and so does Kateryna. He shares a knowing look with Kateryna and they both smile at each other.

Natalya sees them sharing this look. They are so obviously excited, and she is not pleased. Her dislike towards Emily increases slightly, angry that her sister and her dear big brother are taken with this little valacuha amierykanski chlapčuk.

* * *

Emily comes knocking on the siblings' door, and Kateryna answers. "Hi, Kateryna, I have a question; do you and Natalya have clothes for going out? 'Cause, if not, I have some or I can buy you some."

"Ah, Natalya has a dress in a navy blue color that I think would be suitable for walking around the town… However, I do not. But it's fine do not-"

"No, seriously, we want you guys to have a good time, and also look nice while doing so."

Kateryna hesitantly nods and follows Emily back to the house.

Meanwhile, Ivan is getting his money together, and is waiting for Kateryna to return. He looks at the letter on his desk and smiles at it, happy to receive a letter from his friend. He hears a knock on his door and he calls out, "It's okay to come in, sestra."

Natalya walks in, about to reiterate the fact that she doesn't trust the "Americans" when she spots the letter bearing Emily's name on it. "Shcho tse za fihnya? Chomu tse im'ya tsiyeyi divchyny na nʹomu?" she spits at him. How could he even bear to assoistiate with the untrustworthy Americans.

"Tishe. Eto ne tvoye delo," he hisses back at her angrily. She fumes, but says nothing. Emily finally comes back, with Kateryna in tow, wearing a beautiful blue sun dress.

"You look lovely, sestra," Ivan announces.

"Thank you, brat," Kateryna responds happily. Natalya says nothing, still seething from earlier and glaring daggers at Emily.

* * *

Emily takes them in Ivan's car, after asking his permission to use it of course. Ivan sits next to her in the front, with Kateryna sitting behind her and Natalya behind Ivan. As she starts to drive they make small talk.

Eventually, the sunflowers come into view, along with town nearby. Emily says, "So, when we go to town, you guys are more than welcome to wander off on your own, meet others who live around here." There's a pause of silence. Nobody fills it, for Emily doesn't seem finished with her own speaking. "Um," she continues nervously, "they aren't as, uh, open-minded as us, so…"

"Use different names?" Ivan finishes.

"I guess," she mumbles irately, "Which is unfair…"

"No, we understand," Kateryna cuts in. "In the beginning, that's how we had to introduce ourselves as more American, with Slavic descent. I would call myself Katherine, the English equivalent of my name, pronounce Ivan's name the American way, and spell Natalya's name with an 'i' and had her go by Natalie."

"I'm not saying to do that unless you absolutely have to, but seriously, the townspeople here are super close-minded. So… please be careful, okay?"

"You are just going to throw big brother, big sister, and myself to the dogs with no support?" Natalya rages. Her anger wasn't unusual, just unexpected.

"Natalya, please," Kateryna begs.

"What else are you hiding, Emily? Or, should I say, _Amelia_? I know that the brother you always speak of is dead, but I am curious to how he died. Is it possible that _you_ killed him?"

Amelia promptly pulls over, tears in her eyes beginning to well. "The sunflower field is over that way, about a five minute walk from here. The town is another five. I'll be back around four, so please be ready to leave before then." She gets out of the car and walks away.

Ivan and Kateryna immediately turn to glare at Natalya, whole glares right back at them, unrepentant.

"Kak vy mogli by eto sdelat'? Vy mogli by stoit' nam rabotu!" Ivan yells at her.

Kateryna follows up with a stern chastising consisting of, "Vy povynni vybachytysya pered Emili, tse bulo duzhe nedobre z toboyu. Krim toho, vy ne povynni buty v porushenni yiyi osobysta sprava."

Natalya shoots back with, "Ja nie prašu prabačennia i chacieŭ by zrabić heta znoŭ. Ja nie daviaraju amierykancaŭ , asabliva hety. Jana chavaje rečy ad nas, i kali jana schavala što - to ŭ asnoŭny, jak jaje imia z nas, chto viedaje, što jašče Amielija chavajecca ad nas."

Ivan rolls his eyes while Kateryna starts to tear up. Natalya continues to sit, anger emanating from her.

Ivan gets out, Kateryna following him.

"Big brother? Where are you going?" For a moment, the Belarusian sounds sweet and not unlike the little girl she once was back in Soviet Russia. He melts a little, and Kateryna does the same beside him.

"We are going to see the sunflowers. Emily was kind enough to take us here, and so we are going to enjoy it while we can. You're welcome to join us, of course," he responds. She gets out and closes the car door. The siblings all walk out to the sea of sunflowers together.

* * *

Amelia is sitting in the middle of a patch of sunflowers, the one her and Alfred used to play in back when she was small and everything was okay. She takes out the star clips from her hair, the ones Alfred had sent her; one from New York and one from California. From East to West. She sets them down on the floor. She then unclasps the ring on a chain Feliciana sent her so long ago, a symbol of their friendship, and places it on the floor along with the hair clips.

Two gifts, two loved ones, and two deaths. And so she cries, for people who once were, and for everything she is reminded of.

* * *

Ivan and Kateryna are both in love with the flowers, both smiling in joy. Natalya is unimpressed with them, and looks at the flowers disinterestedly. Most of the afternoon is spent there.

They then look around the town a bit, and Ivan buys a little stationary, along with food for their house. When the three of them have finished in town they go back to the car, where Amelia is waiting. She's holding a small bag from the stationary store and and looking withdrawn.

"Hello," Kateryna greets. Ivan waves, and Natalya says nothing.

Amelia nods back. "Are we ready to go?" They all nod back, and she begins to drive them back to the Jones'.

* * *

At dinner, Mrs. Jones asks them how their day went. Ivan and Kateryna both inform her about sunflowers and the small town nearby. Amelia polishes off her food quickly and goes to her room, with a concerned Mr. Jones watching her go. Everyone can tell something's wrong with the usually happy girl.

Kateryna and Ivan share a look, while Natalya sits stonily.

When the siblings all go back to their house for the night, Ivan stews as he tries to come up with a way to make Natalya apologize to Amelia, something he knows will pretty much never happen. He hears a small knock on the door, so he gets up to answer it. When he opens it, he finds Amelia on the other side.

She still looks a little sad from the events from earlier in the day. "Hello," he blurts out. A faint blush dusts his face.

"Hiya," she says. She holds out a letter to him, and he takes it, confused. "Don't read the first one," she says, "read this one instead."

He nods, and she nods at him back. "About today, Emily, I-"

"It's fine," she interrupts. "Just please, _please_ , don't call me Amelia." He nods again, still confused, and she turns and begins to walk away. But then she turns back, and says, "Don't forget, you have to write back to me, okay?"

He grins ever-so-slightly and says, "Okay."

Emily surprises him with a quick hug, then turns away and leaves for real. The envelope says the exact same thing that the first one did, except this one has a small sunflower doodle on it. Ivan goes to his room, and sits down at he desk and begins to read the tear-stained paper.

* * *

 _Dear Ivan,_

 _I'm sorry for abandoning Kateryna, Natalya, and you there in town. It's just, after all of the things Natalya told me, well, it really hurt my feelings. I'm not mad at her or anything (in case you were wondering), it just reopened old wounds. My older brother, Alfred, is dead, and so Natalya was right about that. She probably saw family photo of us in the halls today; they're still up and the newest one was the one taken the year after he died. My brother, Alfred Foster Jones, was part of the US Military, and served out over with the war in the Pacific, and was killed-_

* * *

 **Translations**

 _ **Schcho? Schcho tse?**_ **\- What? What is it? (Ukrainian)**

 _ **Emili i yeye sem'ya khochu znat', yesli my khoteli by prisoyedinit'sya k nim na zavtrak. Chto vy khtite mne skazat' Emili?-**_ **Emily** **and her family want to know if we would like to join them for breakfast. What do you want me to tell Emily?** **(Russian)**

 _ **valacuha amierykanski chlap**_ _ **č**_ _ **uk**_ _ **-**_ **vagrant American brat (Belarusian)**

 _ **Shcho tse za fihnya? Chomu tse im'ya tsiyeyi divchyny na n**_ _ **ʹ**_ _ **omu**_ _ **?**_ **\- What the hell is that? Why does it have that girl** **'** **s name on it? (Belarusian)**

 _ **Tishe. Eto ne tvoye delo.**_ **\- Be quiet. It is none of your business. (Russian)**

 _ **Kak vy mogli by eto sdelat**_ _ **'**_ _ **? Vy mogli by stoit**_ _ **'**_ _ **nam rabotu!**_ **\- How could you do that? You could have cost us our jobs! (Russian)**

 _ **Vy povynni vybachytysya pered Emili, tse bulo duzhe nedobre z toboyu. Krim toho, vy ne povynni buty v porushenni yiyi osobysta sprava**_ _ **-**_ **You should apologize to Emily, that was very unkind of you. Furthermore, you should not be violating her private business. (Ukranian)**

 _ **J**_ _ **a**_ _ **nie pra**_ _ **š**_ _ **u praba**_ _ **č**_ _ **ennia i chacie**_ _ **ŭ**_ _ **by zrabi**_ _ **ć**_ _ **heta zno**_ _ **ŭ**_ _ **. J**_ _ **a**_ _ **nie daviaraju amierykanca**_ _ **ŭ**_ _ **, asabliva hety. Jana chavaje re**_ _ **č**_ _ **y ad nas , i kali jana schavala**_ _ **š**_ _ **to - to**_ _ **ŭ**_ _ **asno**_ _ **ŭ**_ _ **ny, jak jaje imia z nas, chto viedaje,**_ _ **š**_ _ **to ja**_ _ **šč**_ _ **e Amielija chavajecca ad nas**_ _ **-**_ **I am not sorry and would do it again. I do not trust the Americans, especially this one. She hides things from us and if she hid something as basic as her name from us, who knows what else Amelia is hiding from us. (Belarusian)**


	4. Chapter 4

Cara Amelia:

Lately, there have been German soldiers walking around our small village. They seem to have a base nearby; I assume so due to the sheer quantity of them. Nonno has been teaching Lovi, Roma, and I how to speak German as a precaution; he also doesn't want me to go outside while the Germans are around… unless Lovi or Roma is there.

The Germans are very strict and seem to be avoided by everyone. They are not very friendly and are quite intimidating. They seem to dislike us all… No, they _definitely_ hate us.

When I passed by their base (I had finally found it), you could hear them singing. Their words are so beautiful; they truly believe in what Germany wants them to believe. I have enclosed their song in a separate page, but the words do not do the song itself justice. It is typed in its original German, but I have written the translations next to each lyric. I titled it "I Am German Made".

Oh, dearest Amelia, how I wish for a free Italy! It's not something I could ever convey to you by writing, but it is something deep in my soul, something ingrained within me. We fight as best we can, hoping for liberation, and we will not stop. I think you would understand, being American, seeing as how they fought Inghilterra so long ago.

They say the Germans are terrible people, but if they sing with such empathy are they really all bad? They truly mean the words they sing, as though it is a part of their soul put into music. Why must the world be this way? Are they truly monsters or are they just misunderstood? I wish this was more clear cut.

The things they sing! Oh, their song! From its seriousness of red, black, and gold pride to the sillier things about their odd feelings towards beer and "wurst" (whatever that is).

…I wish that this war was over, that Italy was free, and that we could all sing freely in joy. I cannot wait for this terrible war to be over, so I can enjoy my pasta and my beautiful and free Italia.

 _Feliciana Alice Vargas_

* * *

 **A/N: Hiya, earlier this week I started school, so that's why you have two chapters being updated together instead of one. Because of school starting, my updating will become even more spotty than it already is. However, I will be working on this, along with _Olivia_ , so again, if this interests you, put it on your follow list so you can be notified when I update again. Also, the song is an actual _Hetalia_ song, and I really like it ****a lot, so do give it a listen if you haven't/when you get a chance. Questions, comments, concerns? Just PM me, and I'll get back to you as soon as possible, I love talking to my readers!**

 **Hope to be back soon!**

 **-Nayely ^J^**

 **Translations**

 _ **Cara-**_ **dear (Italian)**

 ** _Nonno-_ Grandpa/Grandfather (Italian)**

 _ **Inghilterra-**_ **England (Italian)**


	5. Chapter 5

The dawn is approaching, pink starting to meld with the sky. There's smoke. Fire burning. Chun-Yan Wang smells it. She can see it in the distance. She can see the Japanese military uniforms. A tear trickles down her cheek, unnoticed by the Chinese woman. Her heart aches for the twins, Sakura and Kiku, the two who left. She hopes Yao is okay.

She goes back into the house, and begins to wake up her siblings. Chung Lien, Im Yong Soo, Xiao Mei, Leon… They all seem confused as she goes up to them, waking them from sleep. "Kuài kuài," she whispers in Chinese, "Tāmen zài zhèlǐ. Zhǔnbèi hǎo qù."

They all quickly wake up, understanding what she means immediately.

The sleep is gone from the whole family.

They all creep out, hoping to go unnoticed. Huddling in the shadows, trying to leave the invasion before the Japanese notice. It seems like the Yangs are out and in the clear when a Japanese solider seemingly spots them."Chotto!" a voice yells in Japanese. "Esukēpu Chūgoku no deki sokonai ga arimasu! Sorera o nyūshu!"

Xiao Mei screams, the tension seemingly getting to her. Chung Lien silences her, covers the Taiwanese girl's mouth, but it is too late. They have been spotted. Japanese military uniforms begin to run towards them. Im Yong Soo yells, "Pǎo!" The family begins to run, but it is hopeless. The uniforms catch them, and force them to huddle, along with others captured, in the middle of the town.

* * *

The captured are chained and forced to walk. They seem to walk endlessly, the sky is no longer dawn by the time they are to stop. They are near the edge of a ravine.

The Japanese men seem to all be grinning. One begins to bark orders. "Dansei to josei o kugirimasu! Wareware wa kōun kon'ya o eru koto ga dekiru ka dō ka o mite mimashou!" They begin to laugh, and Xiao Mei begins to sob, Chung Lien holding her and glaring at the uniformed men. Leon and Im Yong Soo also glare daggers at the men, but the men ignore them all, still laughing at what will happen to the women.

There is sound. The military men seem to organize the captured into groups. The family is split, with Xiao Mei having to be dragged away from Chung Lien, the French Indochinese girl cursing at the men in French and Vietnamese.

They just laugh.

Chun-Yan clutches Xiao Mei, them being placed in the same group together. Leon and Im Yong Soo also are placed in the same group, closer to the chasm's edge than the females. Many other families that were torn apart also are screaming and sobbing for one another.

The sound seems to grow louder… The sound of sorrow and desperation for heroes to come save them.

* * *

It throws everyone off. The people sitting on the verge of their deaths, they simply didn't see it coming… Help. Help from the Americans.

They land a plane, everyone being startled enough to clear out of the way. Everybody seems to clear out in shock, watching to see what happens next. American men, military men, immediately file out of the plane and are a blur of khaki, even though there are only four. It seems as though they have some kind of magic to them, like they truly are the heroes they pretend they are.

It's immediately clear that they are winners; the Americans have the upper hand on the Japanese instantaneously. One man cries out, "Rokudenashi no amerikahito! Sorera o koroshimasu—" only to be shot in the heart by a blonde American with blue eyes. The Japanese seem to lose their nerve and begin to run, only to be shot at by the same man.

None of the Japanese are left alive.

A different man, this one a ginger, along with a brown haired man, both begin to get rid of the bodies. The last one was standing right next to the shooter, then moves to go talk to the people chained together closest to chasm. "Zhè shì zhèngcháng de, wéixiǎn zǒule, wǒmen huì jiù nǐ. Bié dānxīn, wǒmen yǒuhǎo de, wǒ bǎozhèng," in perfect Chinese, as he unchains the rest one by one, after moving them away from the edge.

He gets to Chun-Yan's group last, and unchains Xiao Mei first. She immediately launches herself at Chung Lien, Im Yong Soo, and Leon. The American man unchains Chun-Yan last, and he helps her up. Chun-Yan doesn't notice that she's trembling until the American says, "Duìbùqǐ, xiǎojiě, dàn nǐ hái hǎo ma? Bùyào dānxīn rènhé gèng duō nàxiē tǎoyàn de rìběn guǐzi de, wǒ bǎozhèng nǐ de ānquán yǔ wǒmen shēnbiān!" He grins at her, with his freedom blue eyes, and the Chinese woman is instantly star-struck. _He's so handsome,_ she thinks to herself. She sighs happily.

He looks at her, obviously confused, and Chun-Yan hurriedly says, "Shì de, xiānshēng, fēicháng gǎnxiè nǐ jiùle wǒ, wǒ de jiārén hé wǒ de línjū. Wǒ fēicháng gǎnjī! Ó, nà jiù ràng nǐ gèng shūfú jiǎng yīngyǔ ma? Wǒ néng shuō zhè hái suàn tǐmiàn."

His grin widens and he is opening his mouth when one of the men yells, "Jones! Come here! Bring your weird-ass speaking skills with you!" The American man quickly says, "Wǒ de míngzì shì ā'ěr fú léi dé. Wǒ huì zài zhèlǐ de yīzhōu, bāngzhù nǐ de cūnzhuāng. Wǒ huì lái zhǎo nǐ de, wǒ bǎozhèng. Dàn shǒuxiān, nǐ jiào shénme míngzì?"

"Chun-Yan Wang," she responds. She's about to say something else, but then the original man cuts in with, "Jones! Get your goddamn ass over here right now! You can flirt later!"

The American's, no, _Alfred's_ , face drops instantly. He waves good-bye to Chun-Yan and smiles at her one last time before running off.

"What was the American man saying, big sister?" Xiao Mei asks curiously.

"He's rather handsome," Chung Lien says suspiciously.

"He's so strong!" Im Yong Soo says, "He lifted both me and Leon with no struggle!"

Leon shrugs, but it's clear that he's impressed with Alfred.

"Let's talk about this later," Chun-Yan says. "More importantly, is everyone okay?" The Wangs sober, all nodding sadly. "Okay then, let's go back home and see the damage done. Alfred told me that the Americans would help us rebuild." The family begins to walk back, all of them feeling better about the day, and talking excitedly about the Americans.

Chun-Yan walks back home in a daze, heart filled with a man that has golden hair and freedom blue eyes.

* * *

 **Translations and Explanations**

 ** _Her heart aches for the twins, Sakura and Kiku, the two who left. She hopes Yao is okay-_ These people are Japan and Nyo!Japan, along with China. Chun-Yan is the oldest, followed by Yao, Kiku, Sakura, Leon, Chung Lien, Im Yong Soo, and Xiao Mei.**

 ** _her siblings-_ Everyone listed above is a half-sibling, but they all consider each other family.**

 ** _Chung Lien-_ Vietnam (at this time period, Vietnam is part of French Indochina)**

 ** _Im Yong Soo-_ Korea**

 ** _Xiao Mei-_ Taiwan**

 ** _Leon-_ Hong Kong**

 ** _Ku_ _à_ _i ku_ _à_ _i-_ Quickly now. (Mandarin Chinese)**

 ** _T_ _ā_ _men z_ _à_ _i zh_ _è_ _l_ _ǐ_ _. Zh_ _ǔ_ _nb_ _è_ _i h_ _ǎ_ _o q_ _ù_ _-_ They are here. Get ready to go. (Mandarin Chinese)**

 ** _Chotto-_ Hey (Japanese)**

 ** _Esuk_ _ē_ _pu Ch_ _ū_ _goku no deki sokonai ga arimasu! Sorera o ny_ _ū_ _shu!-_ There are Chinese bastards escaping! Get them! (Japanese)**

 ** _P_ _ǎ_ _o_ \- Run (Mandarin Chinese)**

 ** _Dansei to josei o kugirimasu! Wareware wa k_ _ō_ _un kon'ya o eru koto ga dekiru ka d_ _ō_ _ka o mite mimashou!-_ Seperate the men and women! Let's see if we can ge lucky tonight! (Japanese)**

 ** _Rokudenashi no amerikahito! Sorera o koroshimasu_ \- The bastard Americans! Kill them (Japanese)**

 ** _Zh_ _è_ _sh_ _ì_ _zh_ _è_ _ngch_ _á_ _ng de, w_ _é_ _ixi_ _ǎ_ _n z_ _ǒ_ _ule, w_ _ǒ_ _men hu_ _ì_ _ji_ _ù_ _n_ _ǐ_ _. Bi_ _é_ _d_ _ā_ _nx_ _ī_ _n, w_ _ǒ_ _men y_ _ǒ_ _uh_ _ǎ_ _o de, w_ _ǒ_ _b_ _ǎ_ _ozh_ _è_ _ng-_ It is alright, the danger is gone, we will save you. Don't worry, we're friendly, I promise. ( Mandarin Chinese)**

 ** _Du_ _ì_ _b_ _ù_ _q_ _ǐ_ _, xi_ _ǎ_ _oji_ _ě_ _, d_ _à_ _n n_ _ǐ_ _h_ _á_ _i h_ _ǎ_ _o ma? B_ _ù_ _y_ _à_ _o d_ _ā_ _nx_ _ī_ _n r_ _è_ _nh_ _é_ _g_ _è_ _ng du_ _ō_ _n_ _à_ _xi_ _ē_ _t_ _ǎ_ _oy_ _à_ _n de r_ _ì_ _b_ _ě_ _n gu_ _ǐ_ _zi de, w_ _ǒ_ _b_ _ǎ_ _ozh_ _è_ _ng n_ _ǐ_ _de_ _ā_ _nqu_ _á_ _n y_ _ǔ_ _w_ _ǒ_ _men sh_ _ē_ _nbi_ _ā_ _n!_ \- Excuse me, miss, but are you alright? Don't worry about any more of those nasty Japs, I promise you're safe with us around! (Mandarin Chinese)**

 ** _Sh_ _ì_ _de, xi_ _ā_ _nsh_ _ē_ _ng, f_ _ē_ _ich_ _á_ _ng g_ _ǎ_ _nxi_ _è_ _n_ _ǐ_ _ji_ _ù_ _le w_ _ǒ_ _, w_ _ǒ_ _de ji_ _ā_ _r_ _é_ _n h_ _é_ _w_ _ǒ_ _de l_ _í_ _nj_ _ū_ _. W_ _ǒ_ _f_ _ē_ _ich_ _á_ _ng g_ _ǎ_ _nj_ _ī_ _!_ _Ó_ _, n_ _à_ _ji_ _ù_ _r_ _à_ _ng n_ _ǐ_ _g_ _è_ _ng sh_ _ū_ _f_ _ú_ _ji_ _ǎ_ _ng y_ _ī_ _ngy_ _ǔ_ _ma? W_ _ǒ_ _n_ _é_ _ng shu_ _ō_ _zh_ _è_ _h_ _á_ _i su_ _à_ _n t_ _ǐ_ _mi_ _à_ _n.-_ Yes, sir, thank you so much for saving me, my family, and my neighbors. I am so grateful! Oh, would it make you more comfortable to speak English? I am able to speak it fairly decently. (Mandarin Chinese)**

 ** _W_ _ǒ_ _de m_ _í_ _ngz_ _ì_ _sh_ _ì ā_ _'_ _ě_ _r f_ _ú_ _l_ _é_ _i d_ _é_ _. W_ _ǒ_ _hu_ _ì_ _z_ _à_ _i zh_ _è_ _l_ _ǐ_ _de y_ _ī_ _zh_ _ō_ _u, b_ _ā_ _ngzh_ _ù_ _n_ _ǐ_ _de c_ _ū_ _nzhu_ _ā_ _ng. W_ _ǒ_ _hu_ _ì_ _l_ _á_ _i zh_ _ǎ_ _o n_ _ǐ_ _de, w_ _ǒ_ _b_ _ǎ_ _ozh_ _è_ _ng. D_ _à_ _n sh_ _ǒ_ _uxi_ _ā_ _n, n_ _ǐ_ _ji_ _à_ _o sh_ _é_ _nme m_ _í_ _ngz_ _ì_ _?-_ My name is Alfred. I'll be here for the week helping your village. I'll come find you, I promise. But first, what is your name? (Mandarin Chinese)**


	6. Chapter 6

Feliciana is walking back to her nonno's cottage, located in the far west edge of town, when she sees a foreign-looking man studying a map. She giggles to herself, knowing that all maps of the Northern Italian town are inaccurate and it's better to ask a local for guidance. She giggles again, thinking, _and they'll give you pasta, too!_

The young Italian woman goes up to the blond man and realizes the people walking around are, in fact, _avoiding_ him. As she's getting closer she wonders why, but then she sees it. _It what he's wearing_ , Feliciana realizes. Symbol of the Nazi party on his neck, branding him as one of _theirs_. Green German military uniform. Epitome of fear, of hate… Yet still she feels bad and decides she should ask him if he wants some help.

"Guten tag, sind sie verloren?"

The man turns. He has a harsh look on his face.

"Ja," he responds.

"Where are you headed, Herr…"

"I am going to my base, which is located north-west of this town. I stopped in the general store and asked for someone to please draw me a map. One bastard finally agreed to draw me one, but this is absolute shit. I have been wandering around here for half an hour!" He huffed in annoyance, finally muttering,, "Fucking Italians need to learn their place."

Feliciana sucks in a breath. She had felt bad for this man, but now…

"Do you want me to show you the way there? To the road leading to your camp? I promise, it will be no trouble."

"What I want is someone to draw me a decent map of this dump so I can get back to serving my country!"

"Herr Beilschmidt, that is not possible. Here in this town, we don't really have maps; we guide strangers around our home and make them feel as welcome as possible."

The man sighs and seems to relent. "Fine then. I don't have to be around the base until sundown. Show me around the town."

* * *

As she guides the soldier around town the townsfolk whisper, avoiding the two like the plague. Feliciana ignores them, instead asking her companion if he wants anything to drink.

"Ja, a beer would be fantastic right now."

The two walk together, with Feliciana attempting to make small talk but the German resisting. She eventually gives up. Feliciana guides him to the cantina her family runs and he holds the door open for her. She looks at him, startled.

"I realize I was not being very polite to you earlier. I am sorry. Also, it is good form to hold doors open for ladies." He blushes, looking away from her.

She smiles at him and walks in, gesturing for him to follow her. She directs him to find a table, telling him she will order.

"I am sorry that I didn't ask this earlier; please forgive me for my poor manners… My first name is Ludwig. What is yours?" he tentatively asks.

She grins and quickly responds with, "Feliciana. Feliciana Vargas."

Feliciana then asks Ludwig if he'd like anything to eat. He says yes, and she goes up to her other brother Romeo to order.

"Ciao, Romeo!" she greets.

"Ciao, Feliciana…" He isn't looking at his sister at all when he speaks, but instead looking behind her. "Who is that with you?" he inquires.

"Oh, it's a lost man. His name is Ludwig. I am showing him around the town, he is quite nice once he opens up. Can I order now?"

Romeo looks the man up and down, instantly recognising the uniform as an enemy and growing protective of his younger sister. He is not sure if this something that he should've expected out of his sorellina; she acts like the world, and everything in it, is made of sugar.

Romeo sighs and nods. "Make it quick, Feliciana. I have a word to say to you when you're done."

She orders a beer for Ludwig, along with a pasta dish that she thinks he'll enjoy. For herself, she orders a pasta dish as well and then a glass of water. Romeo writes this down, then puts the order into the kitchen. He dusts his hands, and then walks around the counter to face Feliciana with nothing between them.

"You need to be careful, Feliciana. You do know what he is, right?"

"I do, actually. And it's 'who', not 'what', fratello."

"There is no need for the attitude, sorellina. I just want you to be safe. Lovi and nonno would want the same, if they were here. You know they would give you more flack if they saw you with one of them."

Feliciana rolls her eyes, and Romeo goes back and hands her the food.

"Good-bye, fratello. I will see you at home." She goes back to the table where Ludwig is and after reassuring Ludwig nothing is wrong the two begin to eat. When they finish, the German reluctantly agrees that the food was quite delicious for being Italian. The two soon leave, with Feliciana guiding Ludwig to the road leading out of town and towards his base.

"If you still need help getting around here, I'd be more than willing to help."

"Yes… But I wouldn't know where to find you, or anything—"

"Just go up to a villager, and say, 'Non posso parlare molto italiano, ma sto cercando Feliciana Vargas. La prego di indicarmi dove si trova?'"

"Non posso parlare molto italiano, ma sto cercando Feliciana Vargas. La prego di indicarmi dove si trova?" he repeats.

"Yes," she replies. "They'll either know where I am, or find someone who does and then show you to me. I'm more than happy to help. Consider me your tour guide around town." She smiles, and his lips turn up slightly in response. "Auf wiedersehen, Ludwig," she says.

"Auf wiedersehen, Feliciana," he replies. They turn away from each other, walking to their separate destinations; neither noticing the pink dusted on their faces. ** _  
_**

* * *

 **A/N: Hi everybody!**

 **Romeo is Seborga, I had meant to introduce him in the second chapter, but I seemingly forgot to include him, even though he was in my drafts. I know that canonly-speaking, he is actually the youngest Vargas, but I'm taking a small liberty here, and making him the middle Vargas sibling. I gave him the name Romeo because he's very flirtatious(according to Hima, he's the one out of the three most likely to be successful picking up a girl), and it's a common name used for him(along with Michaelangelo, but I didn't feel like it suited him). The chapter with Feliciana's first letter to Amelia/Emily was rewritten to include him.**

 **In other news, I got a beta! Her name is Izzy, and she has a review blog on tumblr, and she reviewed my story! She then PM'd me here, and told me that she liked my story, but that it would benefit from having a beta. After talking a bit, she offered to become my beta, and is now currently beta-ing for _From Ivan, To Emily (With Love)_! So now you guys will be getting better-quality stories! Check out her tumblr _(reviewing-fanfictions)_ and her ** **page _(world-class-hetalia)_ to see more of her!**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **-Nayely ^J^**

 **Translations**

 ** _nonno-_ grandpa (Italian)**

 ** _Guten tag, sind sie verloren?-_ good day, are you lost? (German)**

 ** _Ja-_ yes (German)**

 ** _Herr-_ Mister (German)**

 ** _Der Oberleutnant Beilschmidt-_ First Lieutenant Belischmidt (German)**

 ** _Ciao-_ Hello (Italian)**

 ** _sorellina_ \- little sister (Italian)**

 ** _Non posso parlare molto italiano, ma sto cercando Feliciana Vargas. La prego di indicarmi dove si trova?-_ I cannot speak much Italian, but I am looking for Feliciana Vargas. Could you please direct me to where she is? (Italian)**

 ** _Auf wiedersehen-_ goodbye (German)**


	7. Chapter 7

At Sunday dinner, Ivan walks into the kitchen with the mail. "Nobody brought it in yesterday, so I brought it," he explained.

Natalya sniffs and rolls her eyes. However Kateryna, Emily, and Mrs. Jones all look up from the cooking interestedly so Ivan hands them to Mr. Jones, who then takes the letters given. One of the letters makes his bushy eyebrows lift.

"What is it, mon cher?" Mrs. Jones asks.

"Yeah, dad, what is it?"

"There is a letter here from China," he sighs. A cloud seems to hang over the Jones' as they realize who could have sent it.

"Bu-but, she knows, non?"

"I have no idea," he whispers back at the wife. "It's written in Chinese, but there's a short note in English that I can't make heads or tails of!"

The ex-Soviet siblings glance at one another, wondering why the letter has caused such turmoil within the normally united Jones family. Mrs. Jones keeps babbling in worried French at her husband, and he doesn't respond. He's mumbling under his breath now… Ivan wonders how the letter will affect his friend, hoping it's not as bad as it seems. Kateryna has concern written on her face. Both of them are worried.

Emily takes over, saying, "Give it to me. I can read Chinese." The whole table gapes at her. She ignores their looks, and begins to read out loud.

* * *

Dear Jones Family:

Hello. My name is Wang Chun-Yan, Chun-Yan Wang in Western order. I am the second oldest of eight siblings.

Before his death, Alfred and I were engaged and were planning to be married as soon as the war ended. You, as well as I, know that this did never happen. I grieved for many months after finding out what happened to poor Alfred.

Alfred had wanted me to meet you all, and to see your lovely home in Kansas. I would like to honor his wishes.

If it is convenient, I would like to come to your farmhouse and stay there for about a month before coming back home to China. I am able to read English, so if this is alright please write a letter back that lets me know it is alright to come.

Thank you terribly much,

Wang Chun-Yan

* * *

Emily has tears beading in her eyes, and Ivan wants to comfort his friend. But knows he can't. Not in front of Mr. Jones. He decides he'll write a letter asking about the whole situation, and hopefully he'll be better prepared for making her feel better next time.

"Are we gonna let her come?" she sniffles. "'Cause if she does, we should invite her to come here during Christmas."

"I'd love for her to come!" Mrs. Jones pipes in, "The house would be fuller, and I'd be able to make the Christmas dinner I've always wanted to make!" She seems excited, albeit still distraught about the very arrival of the unexpected letter.

It's Mr. Jones who's apprehensive. "I don't know, love," he says to Emily. "Won't she want to celebrate Christmas with her family?"

Emily sighs and says, "Dad, Chinese people don't celebrate Christmas the way we do. Christmas is super important to the West, so she should see that. Christmas was Alfred's favorite holiday."

"Alright, then. You write back to her, and I'll post it tomorrow," her father sighs, still seemingly unsure.

"You mean, 'mail it tomorrow'. Dad, 'Post it tomorrow' is Brit-speak."

Her father smiles. "So it is." He goes to help his wife in the kitchen, the two smiling at each other, glad to see a bit of their Amelia back through the Emily.

Mrs. Jones soon shrieks at Mr. Jones, saying, "What are you doing!? You're going to ruin the food if you touch it!"

Emily laughs, and the tension is broken. She grins at Ivan and he smiles back, a sun melting the worries that froze his insides. Surely, if everyone was smiling, he had nothing at all to worry about.

* * *

After dinner, Ivan and Emily meet on the porch, and walk with his sisters back to their home for the foreseeable future. Kateryna opens the door and welcomes her siblings and Emily in. Emily walks in with curious glances around despite having been here before, and after a short pause Natalya follows, glaring at the American hatefully.

Ivan and Emily go out to where there is a small porch on the back, facing a small sunflower field in the distance. They settle down with pillows for each to sit on, and look out into the sunset. Emily also has the letter and a lamp for the two to use.

"Who is Chun-Yan?" Ivan tentatively asks.

Emily sighs heavily. It was obvious that she didn't really want to have this conversation, but before Ivan could apologize and drop the subject she started speaking. "Didn't you listen earlier? She was gonna marry my brother…"

"Well yes, I did, but I mean… Where is she from?"

Understanding blooms into Emily's face. "Oh, I understand now. I'm sorry for snapping at you."

"It's alright," he smiles at her, and she replicates his action at him.

"The thing is, we don't really know too much about her. Alfie didn't tell us too much, other than that he'd met someone and that after the war they were gonna get married. He said we would love her, and he'd bring her back here to the States." She sighs once again, less heavily now,, and continues. "You can see how well that plan turned out. Alfie met her in her home country, China. Supposedly he saved her, and we assume along with her family as well, from some Japanese soldiers. Alfie swears that the Japanese were hellish demons, but I think all men are demons when it comes to war; humans hold nothing back when there's everything to gain and everything to lose."

Ivan sighs at that comment, and responds with, "All men have a hellish demon within, it's when they choose to let it out that matters. And war is the place most let it out; making war more hellish than it ever needed to be."

"I wish war never had existed. Maybe then, humans would be better off…"

"It's a nice thought, but…" Ivan paused, deciding to chose his words carefully. "You and I both know that that will never happen. As long as there is humanity, there is war; the two are forever intertwined."

A blackness, a heaviness seems to cloak the two. Their thoughts of hell, of war, and of demons… It seem to weigh on the two friends, drowning them in a bitterness that perhaps was always there, swirling within them as they try to cling the remnants of their old, happier, pre-war selves.

The thing about war is that it's part of humanity; there is nothing humans can do to escape it. Maybe they could, if they could change, but another funny thing about humans is that even though they claim to be oh-so-"advanced" and oh-so-"changed", is that they are always, always able to repeat their old mistakes from the past. Their mistakes may not be identical, but they are always repeated in some way or another, a motif through time. War tears apart everything it touches. After wars, everyone claims that something like this will never happen again, that it was too terrible. When, if ever, will humans learn?

* * *

Emily sighs again, and Ivan does the same.

"Let's write this letter," Emily says tiredly.

"Okay."

"What should I write?"

Ivan chuckles softly. "Don't you know how to write letters to people though? I mean, you write to me, and your letters are beautifully structured," he says cheekily.

She laughs frustratedly. "Ivan, you know that's different! That's for fun; I enjoy writing letters to you." She blushes at the end, and turns away from him.

Ivan also blushes slightly, and more seriously he answers, "Introduce yourself. Then explain what you are writing about."

Emily nods. After writing for a few long minutes, pausing at times before once again putting pen to paper, she puts down her pen and she says, "I'm done. Let me read it to you so, y'know, you can see how it sounds."

Ivan nods and after a small hesitation, Emily begins to read.

* * *

Dear Chun-Yan:

My name is Amelia Jones, I'm Alfred's younger sister. I prefer to go by Emily.

My mom and dad and I would love it if you came here to the States to visit us. If it's convenient for you, we'd like you to come in December so you can see what it's like here during Alfred's favorite holiday, Christmas.

We are glad to hear from you, and I hope to see you in December.

Amelia Feliciana Jones.

* * *

"That sounds fine to me." Ivan says. "It's short, simple, and to the point."

"Okay, then I'm gonna rewrite it nicer and then give it to Dad so he can mail it." She smiles slightly, seemingly happy with her work now that it had Ivan's approval.

"How do you know she'll get it?"

"I don't. So I'm gonna take a leap of faith… For Alfred."

There is nothing left to say between the two. Methodically, they stack the pillows together for Emily to take back to the main house, and then go back to the front.

When they finally get to the front Emily turns back to Ivan and says, "Thanks for everything. Really." She hugs him quickly, startling him, and then turns away to start walking back to the house.

"Oh, and Ivan?" Emily says, turning back to face the Russian.

His reply is quick. "Yes?"

"Don't forget to read the letter I'm sending you."

He grins at her, replying with, "How could I?" She walks back home and Ivan watches her go, not noticing the pale pink beginning to warm his face.

* * *

"Comment vous sentez-vous au sujet du garçon russe et Emily?" Mrs. Jones asks, watching the two from the kitchen window.

"Marianne, don't be ridiculous. The Russian boy, Ivan, and Emily are only friends."

"Il est parce que vous êtes un homme, un Anglais à cela. Le Français peut détecter ce genre de chose, mon cher."

"Then what are you asking me for?"

"Je me demandais si vous pourriez peut le aussi. Que mon Amelia pourrait finalement commence à guérir," Marianne whispers at her husband.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello everyone! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as it will most likely be a while before the next chapter arrives (it's a little over 5k unedited, but Izzy may cut some stuff out as she sees fit). I hope you enjoy this and I hope to be here again soon.**

 **-Nayely ^J^**

 **Translations**

 ** _mon cher-_ my dear (masculine) (French)**

 ** _non-_ no (French)**

 ** _Comment vous sentez-vous au sujet du garçon russe et Emily?_ \- How do you feel about the Russian boy and Emily? (French)**

 ** _Il est parce que vous êtes un homme, un Anglais à cela. Le Français peut détecter ce genre de chose, mon cher_ \- It's because you're a man, specifically an Englishman. The French are able to detect this kind of thing, my dear. (French)**

 ** _Je me demandais si vous pourriez peut le aussi. Que mon Amelia pourrait finalment commence à guérir_ \- I was wondering if maybe you could see it too. That my Amelia might finally be beginning to heal. (French)**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N(1): To my guest reader and reviewer: I'm so happy that you reviewed and that you like my story! I'd like you to know that your review really made my day. Sorry this wasn't out sooner, but I do hope you enjoy this one as much as the previous ones:)**

* * *

There is a delicate golden bracelet on Emily's left wrist, with a flower charm on it. It glints in the kitchen light as she makes biscuit dough. Mrs. Jones is making another side dish, and has taken out ten plates for all of the guests. Kateryna and Natalya helping by cleaning the dining room, though only one girl seems to be enjoying the work. Ivan is peeling potatoes for Emily to mash, and she's talking to him about Thanksgiving.

"So it is an eating holiday…?"

She grins and nods, then continues with, "You eat lots of food, like a turkey and the ham Maman made, along with all of the side dishes, until you're full. It's a really pleasant feeling. It's like…" She pauses, looking thoughtful and dreamy as she does. "Like you're a ball of warmth and everything in the world is right. You have just feasted, and then you're surrounded by the people you love: your family."

Natalya looks up then, her face expression an obvious annoyance at Emily.. "Then why are we in here? We are not your family."

Emily turns to her, smiling kindly. "Actually, Thanksgiving was a celebration with both friends and family. The first Thanksgiving took place in Maryland, with the people from the Mayflower and the Native Americans feasting together, with the harvest made by the pilgrims with the help of the Native Americans. It's thanks to them, the friends of the pilgrims, that the pilgrims even survived. So without friends, where would we be now? So really, you guys should be our guests of honor."

Natalya, as her older siblings can tell, is actually rather touched by this. She says nothing and nods. Emily smiles. For someone so seemingly cold, Natalya seems to have a soft center.

Mrs. Jones smiles. She was so happy to see Emily getting along so nicely with the foreign siblings. Everything seemed to have such a domestic feeling… "Isn't it nice that Emily knows so much? She wanted to become a history teacher for the local high school. Now, though…" The woman trails off, biting her lip as she remembers it's a sore subject for Emily to talk about the past.

"The biscuit dough is ready, Maman. How are you with the potatoes, Ivan?"

"I am almost done, although you can most likely begin to mash the potatoes. I just need to finish this last one, it will only take a moment."

Mrs. Jones calls out to the (ex)Soviet sisters. "Kateryna, Natalya; how is the dining room coming along?"

"Beautifully, Mrs. Jones, we will be moving on to the living room shortly just to clean up," Kateryna replies. Natalya nods an affirmation to Kateryna's comment.

Ivan finishes peeling the last potato, then hands it to Emily. "I will help my sisters clean, so it goes faster, d-" catching himself before completing his da. Fortunately, nobody seems to catch it, and he sighs in relief.

"Yes, thank you, Ivan," Mrs. Jones says kindly.

* * *

Emily and Mrs. Jones are the only ones left in the kitchen. Emily is concentrating on the potatoes, and Mrs. Jones watches her intently. "Maman, what's wrong?"

"Hmm?"

"You're staring at me."

The French woman's reply surprises Emily: "How do you feel about the Russian boy?"

"What do you mean, how do I feel about Ivan?"

Her mother replies, "Exactly what I said. How do you feel about him?"

"Well…" Emily says, "He's my friend. And I trust him; I think he's a nice guy, and I really like him."

Mrs. Jones smiles. "Alright."

"That's it?" Emily demands. "Why would you ask a question like that, only to—"

"I have my reasons," Mrs. Jones replies craftily. Her purple-blue eyes watch both the American and the Russian from her kitchen, her mind whirling as she thinks about the two together. She smiles like the cat from one of her husband's favorite books, Alice in Wonderland.

* * *

he Jones family and the Slavic siblings wait anxiously for their guests. Emily and Mrs. Jones had gone to change right after they finished cooking and sorting out what Natalya and Kateryna would wear. Mrs. Jones pops out, wearing a long-sleeved navy blue dress with lace edging the bottom of the skirt. When she walks over and sits next to Mr. Jones. The man whispers something in her ear that makes her blush and giggle.

Right after, Emily also walks in and all of them look up. Her hair is down in its traditional clipped hairstyle, but instead of her normal stars she has delicate golden flowers that match her shining bracelet. She has a black skirt that goes just past her knees. Her shirt is an ivory color with a black Peter Pan collar, along with two small black bows right in the middle in her chest area. She smiles shyly at all of them. Ivan's cheeks immediately dust themselves with pink, Natalya huffs, and Kateryna grins widely at her. Mrs. Jones also smiles, and Mr. Jones gives a nod. The couple also exchange a look, knowing the history behind the outfit. "You look lovely, Emily!" Kateryna exclaims. Mrs. and Mr. Jones share a similar sentiment.

She blushes, and worriedly smooths her skirt. "Will they be here soon? Oh, I'm nervous! I've missed Mattie, Meggie, Aunt Ingrid, and Oncle Francis," she says, changing the subject.

"Ah, yes, I'd love to see Mathieu, Marguerite, and Ingrid. I've missed my brother as well," Mrs. Jones says.

Mr. Jones replies with, "Matthew, Marianne, not Mathieu. His name is Matthew; his birth name is in English. And Emily, please refer to your Uncle Francis in English, not French."

Mrs. Jones frowns at her husband. "Emily is respecting her beautiful French heritage. I will thank you to not deny our daughter of it," she bites out coldly.

"And I will thank you to make sure our daughter respects the English language and people's proper names, Marianne," he replies angrily.

Their fight begins to escalate, with them angrily speaking at each other in both French and English, their words becoming crueler and crueler.

Emily's eyes widen as she watches her parents' fight, and then she grabs Ivan's hand. She motions for Kateryna and Natalya to grab on to his hand and she whirls them all away from the dining room. Her skirt swirls as she hurriedly rushes them into her room, locking the door behind her. Emily lets go of Ivan's hand, and Natalya glares murderously at her. Kateryna has tears beading in her eyes. Ivan still has pink blooming on his face. He rather liked the way it felt, with his hand held in hers; soft, warm, and as though it belonged there forever.

"Are they going to be alright?" the Ukrainian sniffles.

"What about our jobs?" the Belarusian asks.

Natalya also rubs a comforting hand on Kateryna's back, looking disinterestedly around Emily's room. Emily absentmindedly pats her bed, and the siblings all take a seat on or in front of the American girl's bed, Kateryna and Natalya on it, Ivan and Emily on the floor next to it.

"Your jobs are perfectly fine; don't worry," she addresses to Natalya. Natalya nods, apparently satisfied. To Kateryna, she says, "My parents always fight like this; when they calm down, they'll be making out like nothing happened. I wouldn't worry about them. Oncle Francis and Aunt Ingrid are the same, apparently."

Ivan finds his voice for the first time. "Speaking of your family, how are you going to introduce us to them? Are you going to—"

Emily cuts him off, saying, "No, don't worry; just be yourselves. It's just my family, don't worry."

They all pause and sit in silence. Emily is straining to hear, possibly for her parents. They all hear a quiet knock on the front door, then a more insistent one.

"Coming!" Mrs. Jones yells, her voice sounding a little higher than normal.

Emily motions for the siblings to follow her, and then she unlocks the door and goes out into the house. The Slavic siblings follow her obediently.

* * *

Francis hugs his niece, saying, "Bonjour, my darling Amelia!"

"Hi, Oncle Francis." She grins at him, and he gives her a pearly white back. "I go by Emily now, if you don't mind." He nods at her, slightly confused by the name change but accepting it anyway. He then goes up to Arthur, and immediately ruffles the Englishman's hair. Arthur glares murderously.

"Bonjour, Arthur!" Francis says teasingly. "I see your eyebrows are still just as bushy as ever!"

Arthur's face turns an angry red, and he retorts with, "And I see you are still as insufferable as ever…"

"Same old Arthur!" Francis calls out happily.

Finally, the two French people meet, and immediately hug each other. "Ça fait si longtemps, ma petite Marianne," Francis whispers into her hair.

"Il a en effet," she replies to her brother, equally as quietly.

They hug tightly, trying to fill in the lost time caused by the war and Alfred's death that passed through their lives so quickly.

Ingrid walks in next, greeting her niece with a calm hug and compliment on her hair and outfit. She then goes to Arthur, seeing his red face and messed up hair as she passes by him to greet Marianne, Ingrid whispers, "I will make him pay, do not fret, Arthur dear." He nods, glad his ally is still on his side.

Marianne and Francis are just breaking up their hug when Ingrid strides up to them, and greets her sister-in-law very politely. So politely, that Francis is set on edge. Francis' wife turns her grassy eyes on him, lit in flames. Francis visibly pales.

"What's wrong, frère?" Marianne asks, oblivious to the going-ons between her brother and his wife.

"Ah, nothing," he mumbles out.

"Okay, well, come help me set up the food. Arthur and Ingrid, please set up the table for eating. Do not go into the kitchen."

* * *

Meanwhile, as the adults deal with their issues, Emily greets her quieter-than-usual cousin Matthew/Mathieu. He mumbles a hello and goes to greet his tante and uncle. Finally, Marguerite walks in. The two girls immediately fly at each other, hugging and becoming a blob of blond hair and swirls of red, black, and white cloth.

"I've missed you so much," Emily mumbles in her older cousin's pigtails.

"And I missed you," Marguerite replies calmly.

"Wanna talk in my room after dinner?"

"Yes, I've so much to tell you."

Marguerite then moves on to do what her younger brother once did, and the Slavic siblings finally file out of Emily's room and then stand next to her. She gives them a wide smile, one of the biggest since she met them. Ivan and Kateryna smile back at her, and even Natalya graces Emily with her lips tilting into a Mona Lisa smile.

"Come on, aren't you guys hungry? Let's eat. Ivan, sit next to me on one side, and have Natalya sit on your other side. Kateryna, sit next to Natalya."

They all nod, and walk into the dining room.

* * *

The Jones and Bonnefoys all sit down together at the dining room table, food spread out all over. They sit in a circle, Marguerite-Emily-Ivan-Natalya-Kateryna-Matthew-Francis-Marianne-Ingrid-Arthur, each with a large plate and a glass; Emily has pop, Francis and Marianne have some red wine, Ingrid and Arthur have some beer, and the Slavic and Canadian siblings all have water.

All of them have turkey, mashed potatoes, biscuits, and so much other foods, such as some traditional French foods and traditional English food. Their plates are all loaded; Matthew and Emily in particular have more food than the rest of them.

"Wow, Mattie, you're eating more than usual."

"Not used to having so much. Gotta eat as much as I can, while the food lasts," he mumbles, eating the food as quickly and silently as he can.

"Mathieu, you know your Tante Marianne and your Oncle Arthur will not starve you. We love you, and while we still want you to eat well, you are never going to need to fight for another scrap of food," Francis says. Ingrid nods in agreement. Marianne and Arthur look sad hearing about this development. Emily sits stoically, trying to hold in tears as she wonders if war is even worse than she thought. The Slavic siblings sit awkwardly, still eating.

"I'm-I'm sorry, Papa, Mom, Tante Marianne, Uncle Arthur, it's-it's just—"

"It's alright, Mathieu dear. We understand," Marianne replies.

"Is it alright if I finish my food later? I'd like to go outside for a while."

Ingrid replies with, "Yes, you can go."

He quickly gets up and leaves. Emily gets up and swirls away, then comes back with a pen and a piece of paper. She writes Mattie on the paper, and puts it next to his plate.

* * *

Emily's getting up for her second plate, filling it with more turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, and everything else that is considered traditional American fare. As she's going back to sit down, the Slavic siblings get up with empty plates in their hands. "Are you going to get seconds too?" Emily asks kindly.

"No, we have to go back to our house. Thank you so much, Mr. and Mrs. Jones, for allowing us to be at your Thanksgiving dinner. Everything was delicious and we truly enjoyed," Kateryna says.

Ivan picks up Kateryna's thread, saying, "But now it is time for you all to spend time without us, and for us to spend time together. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Bonnefoy, and you as well, Marguerite." Natalya nods, and they leave, passing Matthew as they do. In the distance, two shadows walk into the house and close the door behind them.

* * *

As Kateryna, Ivan, and Natalya walk out of the house, they pass by Matthew; Kateryna almost stumbles over him.

"I-I'm sorry, Matvey, please forgive me," the Ukrainian stutters out, tears already beading in her eyes.

"O-Oh! It's alright, really. Don't worry about it, Miss Kateryna." Matthew blushes, embarrassed.

"I really am sorry," she says, tears beginning to fall from her deep blue eyes.

"Kaciaryna, my pavinny isci. Chočacie Vialikaha Brata, i ja pakinu ciabie, abo—"

"Idy, tse normalʹno." Natalya nods, and takes Ivan's hand. They walk back to their little house, Ivan turning back to look at his older sister one last time before Natalya pulls him in.

Kateryna turns back to Matthew, and takes a seat next to him. "You don't mind my company, do you Matey?" He shakes his head, blushing a deep scarlet, so shocked that a girl this pretty would ever want to sit next to a boy like him; a boy with ruined eyes and a ruined mind that can be forgotten in the shadows. He pushes his glasses back up nervously, and takes in the view of the sunset with Kateryna.

* * *

Later, the dinner is over and the adults go into the living room while Marguerite and Emily go to Emily's room. Marguerite makes herself comfortable on the bed while Emily brings her desk chair closer to her bed. Marguerite fiddles uncomfortably with the chain on her neck.

"What is that?"

"What?" Marguerite responds quietly, red spreading all over her face.

"You know what I'm talking about. What is that?"

Marguerite sighs, and takes off the necklace, handing her younger cousin the necklace. It's a simple gold band, with a small diamond on it. On the inside, a small maple leaf inside a heart is engraved. "Are you…" The Canadian nods back happily, blush once again spreading on her delicate face.

"Tell me everything!" Emily demands.

"His name is Matthieu Williams. He's a logger, and he likes wearing red; it's his favorite color. He's quite grouchy, but he's actually a really nice person when you get to know him well. His hair is a strawberry blond color, and he ties it up in a small ponytail to keep it out of his face. He has a bit of facial hair on his chin, the way Papa does."

Emily nods, happy her cousin found someone who makes her happy, even if he sounds a little odd. "He really must love you, he knows about how much you like maple leaves," the American teases.

"Enough about me. I want to know what has happened here since the last time we've come. Do tell me, Mia. Especially about that one boy who sat next to you today at dinner."

Emily rolls her eyes. "Marguerite Bonnefoy, are you and Maman allied to set up Ivan with me? I'll have you kn—"

"Right, his name is Ivan. Tante Marianne told me that he's from the USSR. Those two girls are his sisters, right? The one with short hair is definitely his sister, but the one with the long hair I'm not so sure…"

"Maggie, those two girls are both his sisters. Kateryna is his older sister, the one with the short hair. Natalya is his younger sister. Ivan is my friend, and that is all we are to one another. We get along quite well, but that's the extent of the relationship."

"Fine, I can see that it's a touchy subject for you," the Canadian teases.

"Oh, whatever. What else do you want to know?"

"I want to know where you got your outfit. It's so beautiful. And the necklace and the bracelet as well! And your closet looks fuller than before… I know you sometimes wear Alfred's bomber jacket. I also know you have an album of photos when you have never taken a picture in your life. Lastly, there is a colored sketch of you with a girl who has red hair. Who is she?"

Emily sighs. "A lot of shit has gone down since the last time you came."

* * *

Marianne asks her brother, "It is true? Ma petite Marguerite is engaged?"

Francis smiles happily. "Yes, isn't it wonderful? He is a nice young man—" Ingrid sniffs at Francis' last comment.

"What?" he asks, "What did I do this time?"

Ingrid huffs, saying, "Yes, I suppose Matthieu is a nice man, but I do think my daughter is a little too young to get married."

Arthur laughs softly. "You're so bad at your job, Francis, that Ingrid has to be both mother and father to your children," even though he knows what Ingrid means. He has this fear with Amelia, that one day she's going to find someone and leave his quiet farm home and Tournesol far behind, and forget him and Marianne along with it. She's all they have left.

Francis grins at his brother-in-law, saying, "She's perfect. I love her for who she is, and I would never change her. If that means she's doing both motherly and fatherly duties, then who am I to stop her?" He brings Ingrid a little closer. Ingrid harrumphs again, but she's blushing this time.

"And what of our Matthieu?"

Ingrid speaks this time, looking heartbroken as she describes what happened. "He chose to sign up for the war. He flew for a little while, but that's the extent of what he told us. My little Matthew came home one day after the war, and he was tired and hungry. We sent a happy and healthy boy, they sent us back a sad and hungry boy who needed glasses."

"Worst of all, none of his or his fellow man's efforts were recognized. American efforts were recognized and highly regarded, when they were only in for a year, versus my Matthieu went in for the whole time Canada was in the war and his efforts get called British," Francis says bitterly. He takes a drink from his wine, and his wife does the same with her gin. Marianne looks angry at hearing this, and Arthur looks ashamed, even though it's not by any means his fault really.

Francis continues with, "But at least he came home alive. That is something we can say." Marianne tears up, knowing that they want to talk about her darling boy, her Alfred.

"What about Alfred?" Ingrid asks tentatively. Arthur looks at Marianne, and she nods. Arthur says, "He signed up for the war, along with his best friend Davie. They snatched the two up right away, even before the US entered. They went touring, to Italy, and later to China. Alfred met his cousin, and introduced her to Amelia. He went and was there in China when he met a girl he wanted to marry. Her name is Chun-Yan. She sent us a letter a few weeks ago, look," and passes it to the other couple.

They look at it, confused. "It is in Chinese."

"Emily translated it," Marianne whispers. Francis and Ingrid continue to study it, as Arthur keeps talking.

"We assume they fell in love, because they were engaged. Alfred spent his time trying to save Chinese civilians from the Japs. One day, we realized we hadn't received a letter from him in a while, when the US Army sent us a letter… and our son was killed in China. They sent us his things, including an unfinished letter to us and another to Chun-Yan, along with his ID tags and his leather jacket. Amelia took it all, except a few photos. Since he died she changed her name, and now goes by Emily. She hasn't been the same since, and neither have we." Marianne has tears running down her face, and Arthur looks sad as well. He clutches his wife close to him.

Francis dries Marianne's tears and Ingrid rubs Arthur's shoulder comfortingly as he begins to cry as well.

"Did… Did we do bad? Did we do something wrong that made our son want to go?" Arthur whispers to Marianne.

"I don't know, Arthur." she replies quietly. "I just don't know."

* * *

"Damn," Marguerite says at the end of Emily's tale. "A cousin of ours, you say?"

Emily nods, her eyes red rimmed. "From Maman and Oncle Francis' side. Don't know if she knew him though."

"And you were her best friend?"

"She was mine, and I was hers." Emily sniffles and her head feels heavier than usual.

"Everything in the closet? The stuff you're wearing?"

"The rest of her family sent it to me after she died. They couldn't bear it going to waste. Apparently we were the same size."

Marguerite sighs again. She hugs her younger cousin. "Mia, I can't stand these wars."

"Do you think I can? Did you think anyone can? Meggie, you're blind if you never saw this before Mattie coming back. I should know."

* * *

"Perhaps this Thanksgiving idea is nicer when there isn't a war still lingering on the people," Ivan says to Natalya as he warms up the small stove in their house. "I liked it, though," he continues.

She doesn't reply with words, she just sniffs. The Belarusian girl still doesn't want to admit how much the American tradition touched her heart, even if she thought it was rather ridiculous how much Emily ate.

Ivan takes the teakettle from the stove and then takes out two mugs. He pours some chamomile tea for the two of them.

"Thank you, Big Brother," she mumbles.

"You're welcome," he replies softly.

"I'm going into my room to read for a while. If you need anything, just knock on my door."

The youngest (ex)Soviet sibling nods and her lips turn up slightly. The Russian smiles at her and walks away into his room. Natalya turns to the window, where in the distance the main house and its porch can be seen. She takes a sip of her tea, and smiles at the cup, still happy about the fact her brother made it for her. There are two shadowy figures to be seen, one slightly shorter than the other. She wonders if her sister is happy talking to the weird boy related to the Americans. The Belarusian sighs and hopes that one day the three of them will find a home together and will be happy, just the three, on their own. Watching her big sister talk to new people happily and her big brother with the American, she desperately hopes her dreams will come true, a hope that seems pointless to her, but she does it anyway.

* * *

"Girls, it's dessert time!" Marianne calls a while after the adults cried their tears out and Emily cried hers.

"We're coming!" she yells back loudly. Marianne chuckles. That's my little girl.

They all go back to the table to get dessert. Arthur looks around at the desserts grouchily, as does Ingrid, because neither of them were allowed to help out in making anything.

"Emily, can you take some of the pie and cake out to Kateryna, Ivan, and Natalya?" Marianne asks innocently.

"Yeah, okay, just… give me five minutes to eat my cake and pie."

"Is that how long it takes you to eat a cake now?" Francis asks.

"Is that a challenge, Oncle Francis?"

He laughs. "No, ma petite Emily. I am only joking."

After Emily finishes her cake, Marianne wraps some cake and pie up and gives it to her. "Make sure you make it clear that this is all for the three of them."

Emily nods and starts walking away. Once she leaves the house, Francis whispers to Ingrid, "Tell Marguerite to get Emily's birthday gifts from the car and put them in her room."

His wife nods and tells her daughter what her father said. Marguerite also leaves to do as she's told.

* * *

"Hey, Mattie, your food is still in the kitchen and there's some desert there too—I'm sorry, Kateryna! I thought you were back with Ivan and Natalya! Do you want some food?" Emily smiles. Her curiosity stays unspoken, but she wonders why Mattie and Natalya are sitting out here together.

"Oh, no, I will eat later. Your mother makes such delicious food, I don't think I would need eat for a whole day at least! Give it to Ivan and Natalya, they may be hungry." Kateryna responds sweetly.

Emily smiles and waves goodbye at the two, then begins walking towards the little cottage. She knocks on the door when she gets there, only for Natalya to open the door with a frown. "Hi, Natalya! This is dessert for you guys, there's cake and pie. It's for the three of you. I hope you guys like it… I'll see you tomorrow." She grins at the Belarusian, who is seemingly unmoved, then walks away. The American girl does not notice the Belarusian closing the door immediately after she turned away, frowning at her back.

* * *

There's several boxes on Emily's rose-and-rabbit motif comforter, wrapped in pale blue paper. They are gifts from the past years that the Bonnefoys didn't come, because of the war. She doesn't see them until it's time for bed; she spent time with her aunt and uncle in the Jones' living room.

"Oh! Are these really for me?"

"Yes, silly! Model for me, would you?" the Canadian responds cheerfully. Emily puts on the pale blue dress that has a rabbit motif all over it, along with its matching bolero. She then pulls on her white shoes and twirls a little for Marguerite, the dress swirling with her as she does.

"Oh, it looks great on you! Mom and I picked the pattern, and then I helped Papa make it. I'm so happy you like it. It's your birthday present. There's one more thing in your box and it's an early Christmas present, put it on!"

Emily nods, and after getting into her pajamas, she puts on the hooded overcoat. It is sky blue as well, and it has very faint roses printed on the fabric as well towards the edge. "I love it," she sighs happily. "It'll look great with the outfit I was wearing today, and other things I have."

The girls sigh happily, and then they begin to prepare Marguerite's bed. When they're done, they wish the adults and Matthew goodnight. "Hey, you'll still be here tomorrow, right?"

"Yes, we will be here until Saturday morning."

"Okay. Will we visit you guys soon after?"

"Next year, you all celebrate Thanksgiving with us."

"Just like we used to?"

"Just like we used to."

"Goodnight, Meggie."

"Goodnight, Mia."

Emily turns off the light, and turns over in her bed. Why is it that she's not feeling the same way she once did for Marguerite? It feels like they have branched away, like the time away from each other and Feliciana and the engagement and Alfred's death and so many other things are making them fray away from each other. Emily knows that age also separates them; Marguerite's twenty-three to Emily's own barely nineteen. She hopes they can get closer again soon; she missed her cousin during the war, and had wanted to see her oh-so-badly. She sighs, and just hopes for a better friendship with both her cousin and the Slavic siblings as she falls asleep on the day of thanks.

* * *

 **A/N(2): Hello, everyone! I'm sorry this was so late, but I'm sure you all can see why.**

 **I'd like to put a disclaimer here: I do not in any way believe in anything Emily said about Thanksgiving, and am well aware that it was _not_ as nice as she explains it to Natalya. For those who don't know about American Thanksgiving, you could look it up and see what I mean. Emily only says these things because she wants to be friendlier to Natalya as well as reassure her in the Belarusian's attendance at the holiday.**

 **Okay, now that that's over, I'd like to tell everyone that from here on out chapters are not prewritten or even partially written, so there will unfortunately be a longer wait. Sorry about that, but my school work does come first and I normally only write on Fridays.**

 **I've gotten into Marina and the Diamonds lately, along with Panic! At the Disco and Fall Out Boy. So perhaps there will be one-shots on my page inspired by songs from them. If you have any** **recommendations, please tell me, I'd love to know what you'd like me to listen to; I'll listen to anything in any language except K-Pop and J-Rock, as long as they are on the iTunes store, I'll try them.**

 **So I hope I'll be back soon! Enjoy, and as always, my PM box is open for any questions, comments, and/or concerns.**

 **-Nayely ^J^**

* * *

**Translations, Explanations, and Headcanons**

 ** _Maman-_** **Mother** ** _(French)_**

 ** _da-_** **yes** ** _(Russian)_**

 ** _Oncle-_** **Uncle** ** _(French)_**

 ** _Mattie, Meggie-_** **Emily's nicknames for Matthew and Marguerite. When Alfred was alive, he also used these. Emily came up with Meggie, Alfred with Mattie. Also, Alfred was Freddie, and Emily is Mia (A** ** _m_** **el** ** _ia_** **, Al** ** _fred_** **).**

 ** _Matthew, Marianne, not Mathieu-_** **Headcanon that Marianne and Arthur constantly argue about what to call Matthew by, with each advocating for their respective native language. Ingrid and Francis do the same. There's no debate over Marguerite's name because it sounds like it's English but it has French origins, so both parties are "happy".**

 ** _Bonjour-_** **Hello** ** _(French)_**

 ** _Ça fait si longtemps, ma petite Marianne_** **\- It's been so long, my little Marianne** ** _(French)_**

 ** _Il a en effet_** **\- It has indeed** ** _(French)_**

 ** _frère-_** **brother** ** _(French)_**

 ** _tante-_** **aunt** ** _(French)_**

 ** _Kaciaryna, my pavinny isci. Chočacie Vialikaha Brata, i ja pakinu ciabie, abo-_** **Kateryna, we have to go. Do you want Big Brother and I to leave you, or—** ** _(Belarusian)_**

 ** _Idy , tse normalʹno-_** **go, it's fine** ** _(Ukrainian)_**

 ** _Matthieu-_** **2p Canada! I ship red velvet pancakes. This isn't super important to the story though, so don't worry if you don't ship this. His last name is Williams. Both Marguerite and Matthew/Matthieu refer to him as Matt.**

 _ **The one with short hair is definitely his sister, but the one with the long hair I'm not so sure…:**_ **She means Ivan and Kateryna look related because of their hair color and length, along with height and facial features. Natalya is more "** **delicate" per se, with her different facial features and height.**

 ** _Turnesol-_** **Sunflower** ** _(French)_** **. This is a fictional town in Kansas of my own invention; to the extent of my knowledge, this is not a real place. It's the town mentioned in the earlier chapter "Sea of Sunflowers/Tears of Memories"**

 ** _chamomile_** **\- Supposedly this is the national flower of Russia. Many say it's the sunflower, but whenever I look it up, it is chamomile. Perhaps it's both(Please help me on this if you know, I'd love the help)? Whatever the case, I think chamomile tea tastes good with lots of sugar, so therefore it's in here (along with it being Russia's national flower).**

 ** _rose-and-rabbit-_** **Roses are America's national flower, and rabbits tie in with England meeting chibi America cuddling a bunny.**


	9. Chapter 9

Mr. Jones comes knocking on the door of the siblings one morning. Kateryna opens it, and smiles at him. "Hello, Mr. Jones, how are you today?"

"Hello, Kateryna, I'm doing well - thank you. Would you and your siblings like to join Emily and I on a trip to Tournesol proper? We are getting some Christmas presents, along with some things Marianne requested." He auses, and the girl is about to reply when he quickly adds, "Oh, and here is your money for the month," and hands her an envelope.

"That sounds lovely! Let me tell my siblings so we can be properly dressed. Will Emily stop by?"

"Yes, as soon as she is ready…" Mr. Jones then goes on to list what time they should be ready and where they shall meet. He smiles at the Ukrainian and then tells her that they will see each other later. Kateryna waves goodbye at him, and as soon as the Englishman leaves she turns back into the house to tell her siblings the plan for the day.

* * *

Emily is putting her purse together along with a list of stores that are in the Tournesol proper. Her mother calls to see if she is ready.

"Coming, Maman!" Emily yells, as she walks out of her room. She kisses her mother on the cheek and hugs her the moment she see's her. They seem to stare at each other for a moment, both smiling, before Emily giggles. "See you later, Maman."

* * *

Ivan is finishing getting ready, slipping his wallet into his pocket, when he spots the white envelope with his name on it - written in Emily's handwriting. He opens it, counting the bills carefully. It's so much money, more than what he thought he'd earned, but he has no complaints.

Ivan puts the money in his wallet and leaves his room to go outside to wait for his sisters. The Russian is still a little tentative about going to Tournesol proper, but hopefully Emily doesn't assume they have money to spare, even if he has a little. He wants to save it for Christmas presents, so he can celebrate it properly for the first time with his sisters.

* * *

"So, Ivan," Emily says, in the English pronunciation. He cringes slightly, as do his sisters. He's always hated the way it sounded, but he's also wondered if he would have felt the same had the situation been reversed.

Emily notices and reassuringly pats his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I know it bugs you. But I just want you to be safe… And Katherine and Natalie as well, of course," she adds as an afterthought.

He smiles at her. "I know. I'm glad you're trying to keep us safe."

She hands him a paper. "This is a list of all of the stores in town. On it, it has markings so you know which is which and what store sells what. Tomorrow, before Chun-Yan arrives, I'm going to take you guys to a dance hall. So if you guys don't have comfortable, nice-looking clothes, maybe y'all could buy some." The American girl smiles so brightly that Ivan hates to be the one to make it go away.

"Ah, Emily, while dancing sounds nice, um…"

"Oh, don't worry! You actually don't have to dance if you don't want to. They also sell yummy milkshakes and, my personal favorite, hot dogs. We'll have a good time, whether or not any of you dance."

"I'm going to take Katherine and Natalie to go dress shopping. I promise whatever they get, it'll both be practical and pretty, so don't worry about it breaking the bank." She sunnily smiles at him, and then goes and links her arm through Kateryna's, who does the same to Natalya. They walk away together as a group, and all three of them seem happy, even Natalya.

* * *

Ivan goes and wanders around first, looking at all of the shops and people. He takes in the scent of food and new products and gasoline; he sees the sunflower fields in the distance. Finally, when he's tired of just looking, he wanders into a small store. The store has furniture and knick-knacks scattered around it. Everything has beautiful carvings on them, and some are even painted! There is a small sign on the counter that says 'Custom orders are welcome, just ask.' Ivan also sees a small doorway in one corner, along with a cash register on top of the counter. It's a pretty clean store and the walls and flooring are different shades of blue, some with purple tints.

It smells like wood in the store and Ivan truly likes that. It reminds him of the house he lived in with Kateryna and Natalya, along with the other adopted children of the Soviet Russia house. The smell makes him think of the fire room, where he would sit for hours, quietly working on his studies while the green-eyed Lithuanian boy would occasionally run in with more logs to keep the fire going.

" _Would you like me to add more logs to the fire, Comrade Braginsky?_ " he would ask.

Ivan quickly shakes himself out of the memory.

A short young man, blond and purple eyes not unlike his own, strides in from the back room.

"Hello! My name is Tino. Can I help you with anything?" The man greets happily.

"Ah, yes," Ivan stutters shyly. In his mind, he'd just came up with perfect presents for his sisters… And Emily.

"Is it something you see here, or something you'd like me to design?"

"The second option," he says.

Tino nods happily. "I love designing new things, and Berwald loves carving." Seeing Ivan's slight confusion, he elaborates, saying, "Berwald is the carver, and I paint the designs on. But that's not super important. So what would you like me to design?"

Ivan hesitates slightly, then says nervously, "I want a set of matryoshka dolls. Three dolls, and I'd like them to look like me and my sisters, in order of my older sister, me, and my younger sister."

Tino puts his pencil down. "You're Russian. A communist. But you're here?"

Ivan winces, regretting the matryoshka doll idea. But he knew Kateryna would like them; she'd always admired them when they were younger!

Sensing Ivan's worry, Tino quickly corrects himself. "No, no, it's alright. I'm Finnish myself. I wouldn't tell anyone; Berwald and I keep to ourselves." Ivan lets out a sigh of relief, so Tino continues with, "But why are you here? Who let you into their home?"

"It's such a long story," Ivan starts, "but I wanted to get my sisters a better life. Emily- I mean, Amelia Jones, got us a job working on Mr. Jones' farm."

Tino's eyes light up. "Oh, our little Amelia!" His excitement catches Ivan off guard, but there isn't a moment for him to reply before the Finnish man turns his head and yells, "Hey, Berwald, come meet a friend of Amelia's!"

A new man walks in. He's the same height as Ivan himself, with wire rim glasses and deep blue eyes similar to Amelia's. He nods at Ivan, and smiles slightly at Tino.

"What are you gonna get for Amelia?" Tino asks excitedly.

"I was thinking a jewelry box. I didn't really know how big or anything useful like that, but I did know I wanted sunflowers, roses, and bunnies to be the motif."

Berwald speaks next, "Do not worry. Tino will take care of the details, and I will make the box. We will make Amelia the best, just as she deserves." Having said his piece, he goes back from the room he came from quickly. It's obvious that he really does like to keep to himself.

Tino smiles after him, and then turns back to Ivan. "Alright, so the matryoshka dolls first. What do your sisters look like?"

Ivan describes them the best he can, and Tino sketches as he does so. When he holds up the sketches after a short period the drawings are a spitting image of Ivan's sisters. Tino then asks for the color schemes of the matryoshka dolls, and Ivan describes them in detail. Finally, Ivan is pleased with the results and the Finn places it to the side.

"Now, you also wanted a box for Amelia. We'll design that, and I'll sketch out the design you want now, but that's all of the say you'll have in its design. We know exactly what she'll need, okay?"

Ivan nods, and then Tino asks him, " Is there anything else you'd like us to do?"

"Do you paint portraits?" He tentatively asks.

"Yes, but I'd need a photo. Do you have one?"

"No," Ivan responds mournfully.

"There's a photo-booth nearby. You could take a photo there, then bring it back."

Ivan agrees to do so. Tino then jumps to, "Bring Amelia to come see Ber and me!"

He nods, and Tino suddenly switches back to business. He lists out prices to each item, and Ivan is impressed at how decently priced each item is. It's more than worth it.

He then fills out a form with the Jones' address so he can get letters from them to be informed of when they are finished.

"Alright, Ivan. We'll be mailing a letter Monday so your address is confirmed. Is that alright?" Ivan nods, so Tino finishes the papers up. "Thank you, Ivan! We'll be glad to see Amelia again, and please don't forget to bring a photo of your sisters."

"Of course," Ivan replies, his lips turning up. "I will come back soon. Thank you again."

* * *

He sees his sisters and Amelia (Emily, he corrects himself) a while after Tino and Berwald's little shop, and he is pleased to see them all looking happy, but not so much when he sees all of the purchases they made.

"Let me help you," Ivan says. Kateryna giggles a little. Natalya smirks.

"What? What is it?"

"Nothing," Emily smiles, her eyes shining in mischievous glee. "Take the boxes," she continues, gently tugging most of the boxes Natalya is carrying from her arms and placing them in Ivan's. Kateryna then helps Emily with her own boxes. "Is there anywhere else you'd like to go?" Emily asks.

Ivan remembers what he promised Tino. "Oh, let's go over to the store over there! There's also a photo-booth nearby, let's take pictures together!"

"Oh, let's!" Kateryna says. Natalya shrugs her shoulders in agreement. They begin walking and go into Tino and Berwald's shop.

"Is this where you were for most of the time?" Emily questions curiously. He just hums in response.

Tino is there at the front when they all walk in. "Hello Ivan! Are these your sisters?"

Ivan nods, saying, "This is Kateryna, my older sister," referring to the sister on his right, "and this is my younger sister, Natalya."

"And Amelia?" Tino asks, just as he spots Amelia. "Amelia!" He calls out joyfully, running to greet her.

"Tino?" She asks, a smile in her voice. They hug each other, Tino only a few inches taller than Amelia.

"I've missed you so much!" Tino says.

"I've missed you too, and Berwald as well," she replies, smiling at him.

"I'll take Amelia to see Berwald," Tino says, and walks back through the room, taking Amelia with him.

"We'll leave you to catch up. I'm going to take Kateryna and Natalya to the photo-booth, and then they'll help me find clothes for this dance you want us to go to," Ivan says, and the three leave.

* * *

"Oh, Amelia, what are you doing?" Tino sighs as he walks her into the house he shares with Berwald.

"I don't understand, what do you mean?" she asks.

"He's a Soviet! An ex, at that, but still. Are you sure you—"

"Listen here." Amelia says angrily. "I am sick and tired of hearing of how Ivan and his sisters are bad people for being born in the Soviet Union, and for being Russian. I'm also tired of hearing people question my safety and my sanity just because I did something nice for some nice people who needed help. I hate that everyone is questioning my rationality for taking in some goddamn 'Commies'," making air quotes with her fingers, "when if my dad had taken them in, nobody would have batted an eye at him. But no! Since it's me, and I'm a girl, everyone is acting like I've been possessed by Red magic. Goddamn, Tino, I thought you knew me better than this."

She's still fuming as the Finn tries to diffuse Amelia's anger by saying, "No, no, that's—" when Berwald walks in.

"What's the fuss about?" he asks, in his low voice. He spots Amelia, who is still angry and red from the shouting. Still, she turns to him and gives him a hug. He hugs her back, and Tino just shakes his head.

"Amelia is angry because she claims I am questioning her rationality for asking her parents to take in Ivan and his sisters. But I'm only trying to protect her!"

Amelia huffs at Tino's remark.

"You said he was nice," Berwald quietly reminds Tino.

"Yes, but—"

"No," the Swede says, "You and I both know that Amelia is a very smart girl; she's the brightest one we know. You need to have more faith in her."

Tino huffs, then sighs. "I'm sorry, Amelia. I am only trying to protect you. I just don't want you to marry Ivan, only to find out that—"

She blushes, saying, "Oh, Tino… We're not engaged. We're not even dating! We're just friends."

Berwald smirks at Tino, who is flustered and rambling, "O-oh! I'm sorry, I just assumed, I—"

Emily cuts him off, the smallest smile on her face. "Oh, don't worry about it. It seems everyone these days is seeing things that aren't really there."

"Mer som alla möjlighet att förutsäga framtiden. Det är klart att du två bör vara tillsammans," Berwald mumbles to himself.

"Yes, well, you have to come over again, Amelia, and talk to us again! Ber and I would love to have you for dinner, you know. We've missed you," Tino says bashfully, ignoring what Berwald said.

"Of course! Let me give you my phone number. You can call me when you'd like me to come over. I know Dad will say yes; he trusts you guys."

Tino writes down their phone number on a paper and Amelia slips it into her purse. Just as she's about to say something, the bell rings signaling someone is at the door.

"Oh! It's Ivan! He doesn't have any clothes, though," Amelia says disappointedly.

"WHA?" Tino yells. Amelia starts explaining about how she's planning to take all three of the Slavic siblings to a dance tomorrow, and how she found clothes for Natalya and Kateryna, but it seems like Ivan didn't find any.

Tino hums thoughtfully, but Berwald knows what to do. "He can have some of my father's."

"Really? Are you sure?" she replies.

"Yes, of course. I will measure Ivan, and then fit my father's clothes to his size. I am good at sewing. It will be ready by tomorrow, and before you four go to the dance, you will come here, and he will change. Then you will go to the dance and have a good time. It will be alright."

* * *

Long after Amelia, Ivan, and his sisters are gone from the store, Tino walks around the small house he and Berwald share to set the table for dinner. Their dinner is almost done, so by the time the Finn is done setting the table it will be ready.

"Berwald! Dinner is ready."

Berwald joins his housemate at the table, and once Tino has served both of them food he sits down to eat. He thinks that it will be a peaceful meal, until Tino opens his mouth to most likely voice his complaints on the Russian boy that is obviously interested in Amelia, and the same in reverse.

"I just don't understand why you…" Tino begins. Here we go again, Berwald thinks to himself. "I mean, he's not exactly trustworthy. Who knows why he's here. Berwald, aren't you even vaguely concerned that he could be dangerous, and we just let Amelia waltz away with him and his sisters, who are probably in on whatever he's planning…?"

Tino, please, Berwald begs mentally, please stop with this. Berwald notices his dinner plate is almost empty, and Tino is still going on about how terrible this Ivan could be.

"Berwald. Berwald. Are you even listening to me? What did I just say?" Tino demands, sounding like the wife of the household commanding her husband's attention.

"You were ranting about Ivan and how dangerous it is to let him and his equally dangerous sisters anywhere near our dear Amelia," Berwald says flatly, putting his dishes in the sink.

The Finn looks flustered as he tries to regain his composure. "Well, I just think that you should be more concerned for Amelia."

Berwald sighed heavily, knowing he shouldn't open the can of worms, but does so anyway. "Listen to me carefully, Tino. You need to stop. I am tired of hearing you rant about this topic. It is time for you to be quiet, you have said enough. It's ridiculous how you are trying to police Amelia's life when you have no right to do so." He continues with, "Och det är int som vi är i stand att bedöma, Tino."

As Berwald walks away, he says, "I'm going to take a bath while you calm down." He hears Tino begin to cry, and winces.

* * *

Later, Berwald walks back to the main room and spots Tino sitting on the couch. Before he goes to sit with the sniffling Finn, he makes some tea for the two of them and brings two mugs with him. He plants a soft kiss on Tino's forehead. Tino just sits.

"Let's talk," he whispers gently. Tino nods in response.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you. I'm concerned about Amelia too. She's like the daughter we could never have. But we have to understand, she'll never listen to us, even if we voice how we feel on the subject. You tried that yourself, and look where it got you. I feel better knowing that at least we're here to help her if she needs it. Don't you think I understand? Of course I do. But we have to give her her space."

Tino nods, and sniffles. "I know what you mean. It's just, y'know, Ber, I love her so much. It's like she's my own daughter! And for all we know, the Russian boy could be dangerous. But I also know that he seemed nice… I'm sorry for driving you crazy easier." He snuggles into Berwald's larger body and stretches out his legs on the sofa. Berwald sits stoically, taking care not to spill his tea on the smaller man.

Tino then turns back to Berwald and kisses him on the mouth, his lips tasting of tea while Berwald's have a faint taste of their dinner from earlier. He then turns back contentedly and sips his tea comfortably using Berwald as his pillow, while Berwald is pleased with the kiss and blushes, still embarrassedly happy with the kisses Tino gives him even after all the time they have spent together. Thoughts of Amelia and Ivan gone from their heads as they spend the rest of their evening in peace.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry this took awhile, I was just waiting for Izzy to get back to me. Right after I publish this, I'll be sending her my next chapter, so hopefully I'll be updating again soon. Hope to be back soon! I know** **nobody really reads my rambles but as always, feel free to PM me about anything, I'll get back to you as soon as possible:)**

 **-Nayely ^J^**

 **Translations and Headcanons**

 _ **Red magic-**_ **Communists were also referred to as "red", and in the 50's during McCarthyism, the time period was also called "the Red Scare"**

 ** _Mer som alla möjlighet att förutsäga framtiden. Det är klart att du två bör vara tillsammans-_** **More like everyone is able to predict the future. It's clear you two should be together. (Swedish)**

 ** _Och det är int som vi är i stand att bedöma_** **\- And it's not like we're in any position to judge (Swedish)**


	10. Chapter 10

They're waiting for him, Ivan knows, but to him these clothes are some of the hardest he's ever had to wear - and it's not because they're tight. They fit him well. The thing is, he's never had clothes like this, just specifically for one purpose. He feels wrong in them, like they are too American for him, that they're to make him more American. Just like this whole night.

"Vanya?" Kateryna whispers quietly through the door. "Is something wrong? Natalya and Emily are waiting, you know." He cracks open the door slightly and waves his big sister in. They're cramped in the bathroom, neither of them exactly have the thinner body their younger sister has. "Oh, Vanya, you look so handsome in your outfit! But let me fix your hair; it's out of place since you put on your clothes," Kateryna says, beginning to fuss about at his hair.

"It feels odd," he mumbles at her, not being able to speak all that well with her chest hanging in front of his face. He closes his eyes.

"I feel a little odd in my outfit too," Kateryna admits, looking down at her ocean blue dress, "But do not worry, Emily will be there for us, and we look lovely. We will be alright."

* * *

Emily pays for them to get in, something Ivan frowns a little at; he feels guilty enough, not being able to truly repay Emily for all of her kindness to him and his sisters, but there's nothing he can do about it.

"Link arms, guys! Kat, you with my left, and Ivan on my right. Nat, you link up with Ivan," Emily directs, beginning to use their Americanized names. Natalya grimaces at the nickname, and Ivan feels the same way. It's the price they have to pay, though, to be safe in a Cold War America.

Emily guides them to the seating area where there are benches and tables, and food vendors are towards the very end of the area. Separated by stairs and a railing is the dance floor, where many are already dancing the night away. Emily asks the siblings, "So, we didn't eat before we came. Are you guys hungry?"

Natalya nods, and Ivan shrugs. Kateryna says that she thinks that they should eat. After Emily explains what kind of foods there are, they all decide on cheeseburgers with sodas.

"I'll be back soon with our food, okay? See you guys in a bit!" Emily begins to walk away when Kateryna catches her arm, saying, "Do you want me to come and help you carry the food back?"

"Well, I won't really need help… But if you want to come, you should! I love your company, Kat," the American girl says charmingly."

"Well, in that case," Kateryna giggles, and walks with Emily away to the food.

Natalya sighs. Ivan asks her, "What is wrong?"

"I don't understand why she wanted us to come here. It's not like anyone except Big Sister will enjoy this trash. And Big Sister doesn't count because she likes everything."

Ivan nods. "I understand how you feel. I think Emily wanted us to see the things she enjoys, but she didn't want to exclude any of us. I also think that she was being sincere in her gesture and didn't think about how we may not enjoy this kind of thing, as this type of activity is normal for her. Look around - look how many people are here. It seems like all of the young people come here," he says quietly. "It's okay if you don't have fun. Just try to pretend you were apathetic to this, just as you normally do."

"I am apathetic to everything, but I do not pretend, Big Brother."

Ivan laughs at her obvious lie, and Natalya smiles offers the smallest of smiles. Their sibling moment is ruined with Emily's chipper voice breaking in, saying, "What are you guys laughing about? Oh, Kat has the burgers, and I brought the drinks."

Ivan's laugh fades, and Natalya's face sinks back into its neutral frown. "A private sibling joke, between brothers and younger sisters only, sorry," he says, a smirk curving his face. Perhaps this night won't be so bad if he has Natalya's comments to amuse him so.

"Aw, okay then. Don't share. Me n' Kat will just have to come up with something cool!" Emily says, as her and Kateryna place food on the table. "I also got us french fries, I hope you don't mind. I also brought ketchup, in case you'd like to dip your fries in there."

They all begin to eat, and time passes as they do so. Ivan thinks to himself that soon the night will be over and then they won't have to come back anymore. He knows he's a little bitter about tonight, being dragged to do something he doesn't want to do, but since it's for Emily and Kateryna, he'll do it.

Natalya sighs. Ivan asks her, "What is wrong?"

"I don't understand why she wanted us to come here. It's not like anyone except Big Sister will enjoy this trash. And Big Sister doesn't count because she likes everything."

Ivan nods. "I understand how you feel. I think Emily wanted us to see the things she enjoys, but she didn't want to exclude any of us. I also think that she was being sincere in her gesture and didn't think about how we may not enjoy this kind of thing, as this type of activity is normal for her. Look around - look how many people are here. It seems like all of the young people come here," he says quietly. "It's okay if you don't have fun. Just try to pretend you were apathetic to this, just as you normally do."

"I am apathetic to everything, but I do not pretend, Big Brother."

Ivan laughs at her obvious lie, and Natalya smiles offers the smallest of smiles. Their sibling moment is ruined with Emily's chipper voice breaking in, saying, "What are you guys laughing about? Oh, Kat has the burgers, and I brought the drinks."

Ivan's laugh fades, and Natalya's face sinks back into its neutral frown. "A private sibling joke, between brothers and younger sisters only, sorry," he says, a smirk curving his face. Perhaps this night won't be so bad if he has Natalya's comments to amuse him so.

"Aw, okay then. Don't share. Me n' Kat will just have to come up with something cool!" Emily says, as her and Kateryna place food on the table. "I also got us french fries, I hope you don't mind. I also brought ketchup, in case you'd like to dip your fries in there."

They all begin to eat, and time passes as they do so. Ivan thinks to himself that soon the night will be over and then they won't have to come back anymore. He knows he's a little bitter about tonight, being dragged to do something he doesn't want to do, but since it's for Emily and Kateryna, he'll do it.

* * *

A while after they finished eating, Kateryna is still sipping at her half-full soda and swaying to the beat of the music, clearly enjoying it. Emily catches this and smiles, not noticing Ivan's bored face and Natalya gazing off into the distance. She waits a little bit for the song to change, knowing a new song will be easier to teach Kateryna to dance to.

Emily calls for her friend's attention. "Hey, Kat!" It shakes the Ukrainian woman out of her little world.

"Yes? What's wrong?" she asks, looking concerned.

"Nothing. But do you want me to teach you how to dance like the other people?"

Kateryna's eyes light up. "Yes!"

Emily grins brightly at her. "Then let's do it!" Her smile is beaming as she excitedly stands up, offering her hand to Kat. "Hey Ivan, Natalie, wanna come dance too?" Emily asks the younger two. They both shake their heads.

Emily nods and then leads Kateryna to the dance floor, where she promptly shows her the dance moves to the song; Kateryna catches up quickly and although her moves are nowhere as fluid as Emily's, she dances well.

* * *

Emily and Kateryna have been dancing together for awhile, having a great time, and Emily teaches Kateryna how to dance to some of the songs with specific choreography. Soon enough, a partner's song comes on, and Kateryna is a little nervous in dancing to this one.

"Don't worry," Emily says cheerfully. "I'll be your partner! That way, you can learn the girl moves. It's a fun dance to do too."

So Kateryna then goes along with what Emily says tentatively, but soon gets into the music and steps and all of her worry dissipates. A little into another partner's song, she's tapped on the shoulder by a tall boy, a young man about Ivan's age. He's dark haired with darkly tanned skin.

"Do you mind if I cut in, dollface?" He asks, but it's not really a question; really, it's a demand, by the tone of his voice. Kateryna looks at Emily for reassurance, but Emily's not looking at her.

Emily calls him out on his rudeness, saying, "You know, that's not very nice of you to do to my friend. The least you could do is bring a partner for her."

"I'm sorry, baby," is the boy's only reply. Amelia rolls her eyes in response.

"Kat, this is Allen James. He was in my brother's classes at school and also served in the War," Emily introduces. "Allen, this is Katherine, and she along with her siblings are working for my dad at the farm."

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Kateryna is able to get out. He is making her uncomfortable, especially since he is ogling at her chest so blatantly.

"The pleasure is all mine, really," he says, continuing with, "So, about that dance, Amelia?"

"Dance with him," Kateryna says to Emily quietly, deciding to leave and see if she can get Ivan to save Amelia from this horrid person. "I will be with my siblings, Amelia," she says, and quickly walks away, wincing as she realized she used the name Amelia doesn't like.

"Now see what you did!" Amelia yells at Allen.

"Oh, c'mon dollface, I didn't mean any harm. I just wanted to make a little deal with you."

"What is this deal?" she bites out.

"Dance, doll, we'd look weird if we're just standing here." He starts dancing, and she does too, very tentatively, as he begins to talk.

* * *

"But Ivan, please! I really do think she's in danger!" Kateryna begs her little brother.

"No. She let you go, when she should of told him to leave," Ivan argues, his arms crossed over his chest.

"But—"

"No. Besides, she must be fine, if she's coming over here."

Natalya interjects with, "She is angry."

The three siblings watch the young American girl approach, clearly fuming with anger. She gets close to the table and promptly sits down next to Kateryna. And not too far behind her, is the boy Kateryna was talking about.

"Dollface, I know you're mad, but—"

"Shut up! Shut UP! Didn't I tell you to get lost? So get busy!"

"Aww, come on, doll. Can't you just give me a chance?" He looks slightly hopeful, but really more smug than anything.

"No," Ivan mumbles into his palm. "Not like anyone would want to, the way you look."

The brunette whips to face Ivan, angry. "Excuse me?"

"I didn't say anything," Ivan replies, his voice still a quiet mumble.

Allen, as Emily had called him, just gets angrier, clearly riled by Ivan's indifference. "Get up, pal," and forces Ivan up roughly, pulling on his collar. "Do you wanna fight, pal? Are you jealous? You are, aren't you, Commie?"

"No," Ivan strangles out, paling considerably at 'commie.' How does he know what they once were?

Allen snarls at Ivan, "I can see you're afraid, commie. And so are your sisters. It's a shame they're so pretty. Don't be so confused. I can tell you're one of them. You weren't dancing. Your sister could of been one of us, at least until she came back here, instead of looking for a partner. Anyone who comes looks like they've danced at least some point in the night. But you, you've sitting here all night. I can't wait to tell the town, so we can—"

"Stop!" Amelia says, getting in Allen's way, and ripping his hand away from Ivan. He lets go of Ivan, and the Russian glares at the American hatefully, a glare reflected back by the American.

"What's in it for me, doll?"

Amelia swallows nervously. "I'll-I'll do it. Your deal. I'll do it. Just don't hurt Ivan, and don't tell anyone about tonight."

Kateryna sucks in her breath, so heartbroken at what this might mean. Even Natalya is riveted to the scene, afraid of what may happen next.

Allen cocks his head. "No dice, sweet cheeks. I gotta be able to tell the boys about you."

"No, this whole thing between you and Ivan!" Emily explains, resisting the urge to call the male an idiot, "Don't tell anyone, and you have me, just like you wanted."

"Deal," Allen accepts, but sneers at Ivan before turning back to face Amelia, saying, "Give me your phone number."

Amelia nods, and begins to pull a pen from her purse. She then takes a napkin and writes it down on it. She then signs it and gives it to Allen.

"Thank you, you're a doll," he simpers. "And here's mine," and pulls out a piece of paper from his suit pocket. Amelia tucks it into her purse.

"We have to go home, Allen. It was nice to see you again. I will call you soon," she says quietly.

"It was an absolute pleasure to see you again, dollface," he says, and kisses her on the mouth roughly, as she stands impassively. Allen winks at Ivan and smirks. He then walks away, and seems to melt into the crowd.

"Let's go," Emily says to the Slavic siblings, quickly walking towards the exit.

They have to rush to follow her.

* * *

Nobody says a word as Emily drives them home, but even in the darkness Natalya can see her hands shaking. Ivan is still fuming; because of the dance, because of Emily not defending Kateryna, because of Allen Jones' existence (but it's not like he's gonna admit that part out loud).

The silent drive is soon over, and all three siblings get out silently. Ivan slams the back door, while Natalya quietly closes the passenger door.

"Ah, Emily, thank you so much for taking us to the dance. We- I did have a good time despite it all," Kateryna says softly.

"I really am sorry about Allen," Emily bursts out, "I-"

"You should be!" Ivan thunders frostily.

"Ivan, I-" Emily begins.

Kateryna and Natalya slowly back away into their house, and leave the two alone in the dark.

" **How could you!** " He yells. " **Let that, that disgusting American do that to Kateryna!** "

"Do you really-" Emily says.

He continues even more angrily, " _ **And why did you even think we would like such a thing!? Are you stupid? Who do you think you are, to bring us to such an American place?**_ " The Russian then puts on a thick accent, saying, " **Are you embarrassed of us? Do you think we're not American enough for you to be seen with in public?** "

Emily is shaking, he can see it from the light surrounding her from behind her, but he doesn't care. He's on a roll now, letting out all of his anger that he's had this whole night.

"And how could you, you let him-" he begins, but Emily cuts in.

" **DO YOU REALLY THINK THAT I WANTED KATERYNA TO BE LOOKED AT THAT WAY? I CARE ABOUT YOU ALL!** " she screams, "and I've **never** been embarrassed of you or your sisters. I am Amelia Feliciana Jones; I don't do that kind of thing," Emily continues angrily, "I'm sorry for assuming that you all would enjoy the dance. Next time, I won't invite you at all. Will that make you feel better?

"And on Allen. **DO YOU REALLY THINK** ," her voice is raising once again, " **THAT I WOULD WANT TO DO ANYTHING WITH HIM? ESPECIALLY AFTER WHAT HE'S DONE TO ME? I'M DOING IT FOR YOU, KATERYNA, NATALYA!** "

" **WE DON'T NEED YOUR HELP** ," he yells back at her, " **NOT THAT KIND OF HELP. WHAT KIND OF GOOD WILL IT DO FOR US? AND WHY WOULD YOU EVEN DO THAT KIND OF THING IN THE FIRST PLACE?** "

Her words become crueler and quieter as she finishes with, "You call me stupid, but take a look in the mirror, Ivan. Why would you even care about Allen James, if I'm not supposed to help protect you or your sisters any way I can? Fuck you. See if I do anything more for you. Everything I've done till now was for you all, but I'm done," and then leaves, her shoulders shaking.

It's only once she's gone does Ivan see the teardrops left on the dirt. His arm rises, like he's reaching out to her, and then it falls as she goes inside. He then turns away, and then walks into the house he shares with his sisters.

* * *

Kateryna wails loudly as Ivan brushes past her and Natalya to the bathroom, where he sits in the tub in tepid water, mumbling in Russian bitterly, as he most likely mulls over the downfall of the meeting. If either girl had stood outside of the door the whole time listening, they might heard among all of the Russian curses some muffled crying.

"It's not your fault," the Belarusian soothes her big sister, uncharacteristically so. "He just wants to protect us, and sometimes he just can't. He has to depend on Emily sometimes and he doesn't like that."

Natalya bustles around the kitchen making chamomile tea, hoping the scent will reach her big brother and lighten his mood for a little. She eventually forces Kateryna (who has calmed down although still distressed) to go to bed after drinking some of the tea.

Ivan eventually bursts out of the bathroom, his skin an angry pink, and looks ready to fight when he just sees Natalya in her pajamas sipping on her tea. He relaxes visibly.

"Hello, Natalya," he says quietly.

She nods in response, and continues to drink her tea.

He asks a little teasingly, "Not going to offer me any?"

The Belarusian girl shrugs. "Didn't know if you wanted any. I can serve you some if you want."

The Russian shakes his head, and serves himself. "I'm going to my room to be alone. I'll see you tomorrow, sestra." He then takes his steaming mug and walks away from his sister.

"Dziakuj za pakinuušy mianie u spakoi, hetak ža, jack Amelia i starejšaja siastra," she mumbles to herself.

"Did you say something, Natalya?"

She shakes her head in response. "Good night, big brother."

"Good night."

* * *

Ivan sits with the light on, looking at the letters from Amelia. Many are signed,

"Your friend,

 ** _Amelia Feliciana Jones_** ,"

and are infuriating him. He starts to put them all at to the darkest bottom corner of his closet, one at a time, where he won't be able to see such lies. It consumes him so totally that he doesn't notice Natalya walk into his room.

"What are you doing?" she asks calmly, standing in the doorway.

He looks up at her, startled. His face twists in anger, but he quickly calms down. Natalya acts calm, but inside, it makes her angry that he made that kind of face at her, when she did nothing wrong.

"Nothing that concerns you," he says, still trying to maintain his composure.

"I want to talk to you."

He just looks at her. "What is it?"

"You know, Amelia was right. She—"

"Be quiet," he hisses at her. "Kateryna is asleep."

"Her sleep is very deep, so that back when she was forced to wake before dawn, she would feel refreshed even if she didn't sleep that long. But if you're so concerned, then don't get angry. Just listen." She pauses to see if Ivan will say anything. When he doesn't, she continues. " Amelia was right; why would you care about that American? Why would he make you so angry, if it wasn't about something else? She doesn't know herself, but I do. You like her. And don't try to lie that it was about Big Sister. If it really was than you'd have done something even before he started talking, but you only got angry once he started to flirt with Ame—"

"Get out," he says angrily, his normally pale face becoming an angry red.

Before she leaves, the Belarusian finishes with, "You care more than you want to pretend you do. It's still whirling inside of you, like a blizzard from back in Russia. It's also that you don't want to depend on her, you want to be strong for her and us, but you can't because you're Russian and Soviet and she's not. It was never really about Kateryna, it was about you and your feelings. Don't pretend, Vanya." She then turns and leaves, her long silvery blonde hair taunting him as it swishes away. Ivan slams the door behind her, and a few tears trail down his face as he turns off the light.

* * *

 **A/N: So Allen will also be later explained, but let's just say he's been a little** **obsessed with the Jones siblings for a while. He'll come back with explanations, eventually. This is also the last time you'll see Amelia and the Slavic siblings for a while, as we're gonna be in Italy and possibly China for the next few chapters.**

 **Oh! And if anybody has a good idea on how to name this chapter tell me, because Izzy and I were both unable to do so.**

 **As always, feel free to PM me on anything: to complain, to ask, or just to chat. See you all soon.**

 **-Nayely ^J^**

 **Translations and Headcanons**

 ** _sestra-_ sister (Russian)**

 ** _dziakuj za pakinuušy mianie u spakoi, hetak ža, jack Amelia i starejšaja siastra_ \- Thanks for leaving me alone, just like you left Amelia and big sister. (Belarusian)**

 ** _Her sleep is very deep, so that when back she was forced to wake before dawn, she would feel refreshed even if she didn't sleep that long-_ this refers to how they grew up in Russia, pre- _From Ivan, to Emily(With Love)_. Ivan was the favored child, and he often slept in until eight, which he then started studying as their grandfather wanted him to. Natalya was supposed to wake at seven, but she wasn't treated like a servant, even though she wasn't treated nearly as well as Ivan. Kateryna got the short end, and was supposed to wake before dawn. She was kinda like _Cinderella_ , and their grandfather treated her like she was just another servant. This will be further talked about in another chapter, but let's leave it at Kateryna had a shitty childhood after her mother died and her father brought her to the Braginsky manor.**


	11. Chapter 11

"Hello, Feliciana," a masculine voice says, in tentative Italian.

She looks up, brightening up immediately. "Hello, Ludwig!" She quickly folds away the paper into the apron she has next to her.

"What were you writing?" he asks, reverting to his native German.

"A letter to my cousin," she responds, deciding not to tell him she's American, and that her brother is part of the military. She hates to hide such things, but she knows she must. She then gets up with the help of Ludwig, taking his offered hand. "Thank you," she says. "Do you have the afternoon off? Or this just for an hour?"

He blushes and says, "I'm all yours. I have the whole afternoon."

She grins at this news. "Let's have a picnic!" She's so cheerful, despite her inner turmoils.

"Are you sure?" Ludwig asks tentatively.

"Sure, we can get ingredients from my house," she replies happily.

"Alright, if you say so," he responds.

* * *

The oldest Vargas child is currently trying to distract himself from a handsome Spaniard who recently came to talk to his grandfather, so he heads to the cantina.

"Hey, fratello, come out from behind the counter. You're off duty," he says, putting on an apron with a huff. He doesn't want to work - why would he? He has to though. That stupid Spaniard…

"What?" responds Romeo. The younger brother raises a questioning brow.

"Get out of here, bastard, I'll be taking over from here."

"But your shift doesn't start until—" Romeo begins.

"Just go, bastard! I'll do your shift and mine as well. Get out!"

Romeo scurries out quickly, deciding to not cross the temperamental eldest Vargas sibling.

* * *

A while later, Lovino is getting used to the kitchen and is happily cooking away, Spaniards forgotten. But then he hears him; "Hola, Lovi~".

"Che cazzo? Oh-mio-cazzo-Dio-CHIGI!" he screeches as he sees Antonio Fernandez Carriedo standing right behind him.

"Now Lovi, I'm not sure what you just said, but I feel reasonably sure that was not nice."

Lovino just grabs his hair frustratedly and screams in response.

* * *

He shakes his head in response, smiling softly before saying, "I wouldn't want to spend the time I could have with you eating, when I could eat later." He blushes greatly, turning away from her. Feliciana blushes too, recalling what she wrote to Amelia earlier; …he sometimes seems so nice and like a little boy I used to know when I was young that I used to love.

She takes him by the arm nonetheless and replies, "Well, seeing how you feel, let's just go to where I wanted to take you. Are you okay with sitting on bare grass, or would you rather sit on a blanket?"

He hesitates before answering. He doesn't want to be an issue to Feliciana, but he hasn't felt anything truly soft since becoming a soldier. Feliciana is the first soft thing he's had in his life since then, but he's not sure if he wants to make a big deal just so he can have another soft thing in his life.

"I see you hesitating, so I'm going to take that as a yes." Ludwig's about to respond when Feliciana interrupts, saying, "Don't try me; I know that your life is not the greatest. We can go and get a blanket, it's no big deal." She hesitates before looping her arm around Ludwig, guiding him toward her house.

He blushes a little, but does nothing to take away her arm, the way he most likely would have before meeting her. So soft…

* * *

Not long later, she hands him the blanket as she turns from him. "Tenerlo," she commands in Italian.

He holds it, not moving at all. She goes back inside, taking her letter with her. Peering inside, it looks soft, but comfortable. There's a picture of the three siblings; a boy, Feliciana, and another boy, with an older man hugging the three of them. All except the boy on Feliciana's left are smiling. It makes the house look friendly and welcoming, unlike his own sterile one back in Berlin. Feliciana then comes back out, with two pieces of bread in her hand.

"Do you want one?" she asks, taking the blanket back.

"Oh," he says. "I mean—"

"Take it! Really, I made it this morning. I can always make more."

He nods, and begins munching on it.

She loops her arm through his once again, and guides him away from the house and out of the town.

* * *

Eventually, in the middle of a flower field, she settles the blanket on the ground, and sits. Feliciana motions for Ludwig to join her, "Sit with me," she smiles, and he listens and joins her. "Tell me about yourself, I know nothing about you, other than that your name is Ludwig and you're a German. I want to know everything!" She then grabs a few flowers from around them and begins to do something odd with them. "Go on," she says when he only watches her, "I'm listening."

Ludwig finally speaks. "What do you want me to say?"

"Anything. Everything. Your favorite food as a child; your siblings; your parents; your grandparents. Something. I want to know you better, Ludwig." She pauses from her work with the flowers and caresses his face lightly with her hand. "I care about you. You're my friend."

He blushes. "Okay. We start at the beginning, then?"

She nods happily. "And finish at the end."

"I was born in Berlin, capital of Germany. We lived in the German countryside my whole life, but we also have a small house in Berlin. That's now my house. But most of my time in Germany is spent with my grandfather."

He sighs. "My childhood wasn't happy per se, but it wasn't terrible. My mother died when I was born, and my father soon followed her… We were raised by my strict grandfather, a Great War veteran. He did favor me over my brother, though. He always said I would make Germany proud while my brother would end up in a Hungarian cell."

"Tell me more about your brother, he seems interesting," Feliciana whispers quietly, mesmerized.

Ludwig laughs. "Yes, he really was." He pauses before continuing. "My brother Gilbert is about two years older than me, and he was born in what he refers to the 'Prussian part of Germany,' but I'm not really sure what that means. He's highly obsessed with Prussia, and we had Prussian family members on my mother's side. He wanted to go live in Prussia, and called himself Prussian first and German second. He is albino—" Feliciana gasps quietly at that, and Ludwig stops.

"What? What is it? What did I say?"

"Your older brother is albino," Feliciana says, in total shock, "Yet he is alive and has not been taken away? How?" She knows exactly how the Führer feels about any type of 'abnormalities.'

"Oh no, he's been taken away. I had to turn him myself," Ludwig says, his body filling with shame.

This is why you cannot trust German soldiers, no matter how handsome they are or how kind they seem, Feliciana's mind cries, they even turn in their own family if it suits them!

"He told me to do it, for me. He wanted me to, so neither Großvater nor I would be getting in trouble." There is a pause, a long one. Feliciano doesn't know what to think, and Ludwig seems… Angry. Yet also sad. "But I will tell you something, had I knew a better way, a way to keep him safe, I would have done it… I didn't choose to do it. I'm not proud of what I did! I'm not like the others! I—"

"Shh," Feliciana says, as Ludwig begins to shed a few tears. "It's alright, I'm sorry for pushing you." She scoots closer and hugs him, and holds him, whispering comforting things in his ear.

* * *

After a while, he finally calms down, and he blushes. "I'm sorry for forcing you to to listen to me blubber. I really do care about Gilbert, but…" he shrugs and turns away.

"It's alright," Feliciana responds quietly. "I understand. I don't think you really are like the others. You're far too kind."

Ludwig turns away from the Italian girl. "Thank you." He looks up at the sky, and sees that it went from blue to pink, orange, and yellow. "I have to go back."

"Okay," Feliciana nods. "I'll walk with you part of the way."

* * *

They walk together in silence, Feliciana holding Ludwig's hand as an attempt to comfort him.

"This is the place I leave you," Ludwig says eventually.

She nods, and once they say their goodbyes she screws up some courage, stands up on her tiptoes, and kisses his cheek. She then hugs him very tightly and says, "I'll see you soon. Don't tear yourself apart over Gilbert."

Ludwig nods, his face tinted pink. "He would have told me the same thing," he laughs quietly. "I think he would have liked you."

"I am sure I would have liked him too. After all, I like _you_."

* * *

Later, as the German soldier walks alone towards where he is stationed, he says out loud, "Gilbert, I miss you. I wish you were still annoying me with your Prussia lectures and your stupid Gilbirds. Großvather still has some of them, you know. You would like Feliciana and you'd probably flirt with her too. I'm sorry for what I did, even if you told me it was okay and you understood."

* * *

 **A/N: Hello, everyone! Sorry this took longer than expected. Hopefully I'll be back sooner with the next one. I have a few chapters pre-written, they just have to be beta'd.**

 **Also, unimportant information about me that I want to share! This Saturday is my friend's 16th birthday party, and we're supposed to come in cosplay. I'm cosplaying as 2p nyo England and I am super hyped up, even though it is _super_ hot here and will be the whole week. I'm so excited and that's why I'm even mentioning it at all.**

 **One other thing. I'm on break from May 25 through August 16, but will be on vacation in México from approximately July 16 to July 23. Hopefully, i'll be updating quite a bit in between those dates (excluding** **vacation, obviously).**

 **Feel free to PM me, and as always, I hope to be back soon. Have a nice Monday, everyone:)**

 **-Nayely ^J^**

 **Headcanons, Translations, and Explanations**

 ** _seems so nice and like a little boy I used to know when I was young that I used to love:_ Obviously, Feliciana is alluding to the Chibitalia/HRE relationship. The boy can be Germany/Ludwig if you want it to be. Not really important other than the memory.**

 **handsome Spaniard: You and I both know that this is Antonio and that there will be Spamano in the future.**

 **fratello: brother (Italian)**

 ** _Hola:_ hello (Spanish)**

 ** _Che cazzo? Oh-mio-cazzo-dio-CHIGI!:_ What the fuck? Oh-my-fucking-God-CHIGI! (Italian)**

 ** _Antonio Fernandez Carriedo:_ Spain**

 ** _Tenerlo:_ hold this (Italian)**

 ** _grandfather:_ Germania ( I like to think that for WWII fics, he'd be pretty strict with an obvious bias towards Ludwig/Germany)**

 ** _Hungarian cell:_ This alludes to how Hungary would always get pissed off with Prussia. Their grandfather means he'll make the Hungarians so angry by doing something stupid to the point he'll get arrested for it.**

 ** _Gilbert:_ Prussia. He is Ludwig's full-blooded brother.**

 ** _"Prussian part of Germany":_ East Germany, from the other side of where the Berlin Wall would be. Gilbert was also born in Berlin, but in the East side of it; Ludwig was West side. (Going with the "Prussia is East Germany" headcanon that often circulates).**

 ** _highly obsessed with Prussia:_ this explains why Gilbert always goes on and on about the awesomeness of Prussia.**

 ** _"how the Führer feels about any type of 'abnormalities'":_ Hitler, in his campaign to make Germany a great country, wanted the Aryan race to be untainted by things he deemed bad, such as homosexuality and any form of "diseases" that would somehow weaken any member of the Aryan race, like Gilbert's albinism. He also killed off many elderly people because he felt they were unnecessary baggage in the way of making the Aryan race superior.**

 ** _"turn him in myself":_ some soldiers would turn in their family members so they could get higher standings, if there was something "wrong" with them (like Gilbert's albinism, in Ludwig's case).**

 ** _Großvater:_ grandfather (German)**

 ** _Gilbirds:_ France in Hetalia canon has so many doves, all of them named Pierre. I headcanon Gilbert to be the same, except with baby chickens he names Gilbird. his favorite is the one we always see him with.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N(1): Hi everyone! Just want to let you all know that this chapter focuses on the topic of** **masturbation** **, and I know that even though** **this fic is rated M, masturbation still might make some people uncomfortable, so just wanted to give a heads up.**

* * *

Work. Train. Work. Give orders. Take them. That's all Ludwig's been doing since the last day he spent time with Feliciana. They hadn't seen each other in weeks and he really misses her. The smell of bread and flowers wafting from her, her tinkling voice, how she laughs at him and is constantly humming, her red hair with a silly curl always sticking out from her ponytail... She gave him a chance when nobody else would.

He does really miss her; he aches for her presence. She makes him feel more human, like he is just a boy and she is just a girl who enjoy each other's company. In a war that makes you feel more animal than human, Ludwig welcomes these softer feelings.

But he also feels awkward. He hasn't felt this feeling in a while. When you stop seeing pretty women for a while, you forget the feeling. He forgot that he's ever felt this way, but thoughts of Feliciana reminded him of it. A more animal feeling, but also a human one. Maybe he's just stuck in the middle, human and animal, and maybe that's a war effect; you don't know where you stand until it's too late.

Most of the men here deal with the loss by going out with random women, but Ludwig doesn't want to do that. He used to, but the guilt made him stop. There is one more option, though.

He eventually asks for the doll. It's embarrassing, but it's this or touching himself in the toilets, and he wouldn't have privacy there! Though, he supposes it would be just as bad as using the goddamn doll…

Everyone hated the idea. But the Führer loved it. He wanted to protect them from making bastard children, spreading disease, and who knows what else. Yet the dolls, they're just so… cringeworthy.

At least it's a brand new doll. He'll be able to claim it as his own.

 _What a wonderful caricature of intimacy._

* * *

Ludwig feels like the doll is watching him. The doll is on the opposite side of his bunk where he set it, looking into his eyes. It's making him feel paranoid, like it's judging him. Are you really going to do this? it asks.

The Führer had ordered some to be made for the men who go to Paris, but somehow one had ended up here in North Italy. Now it's with him, right across him. This is pathetic, even for you, a Nazi who spends time with the enemy, and even likes one of them, his brain tells him. He ignores the thought.

It has blonde hair and blue eyes, just like him. He puts it down, picks it back up, and puts it back down again. Not going to go through with it? That's exactly what I thought you would do.

"Come si fa a farm entire meno solo, se si guards proprio come me, e io soon solo?" He mumbles in broken Italian. "You're not like Feliciana. You don't breathe. You don't smell like flowers and bread, and you aren't soft. Your smile is plastic; you don't have a full range of emotions like her. You don't even care about me, you don't even know who I am," he says in German, growing increasingly frustrated with the doll's empty expression.

He ends up chucking it against the wall.

An unfortunate decision, seeing as some lower ranking officers were walking in as he did so. They laugh at the absurdity of the doll, and Ludwig being with it at all. He's the least likely person you'd expect him to be with the doll.

"She cheat on you, Luddy? The French women are so whorish like that." Klaus Braun asks.

"Yes, Luddy, did she not do what you told her to do? Did she not please you like you wanted her to?" Peter Müller taunts.

Günter Schröder then chimes in with, "I didn't know you liked roughing up your women. You must inform us all of your favorite ways of doing so."

Ludwig's face grows pink, and he's a bit embarrassed, but he remembers who he is, and straightens up.

"I will not tolerate such comments from lower ranking men like you. The next vulgar thing that comes out of your mouth will force me to show you just how much I like 'roughing up'—as Günter put it—you all. Do I make myself clear?"

Günter and Klaus look ashamed and nod. Peter is different, he's cocky, and he goes in for one last dig.

"What's more embarrassing, Beilschmidt, touching yourself or using dolls for satisfaction, since you aren't ever going to be brave enough to—"

Ludwig, in speed that seems unnatural, lunges for Peter and has him up against the wall in a matter of seconds. His hands curl around Peter's neck. "Müller," he hisses, "think about what you say next very carefully if you would like to stay alive."

Peter's eyes begin bulging; Ludwig's cutting off his air.

Klaus tries to step in: "Ludwig, he's had en—"

"I say when he's had enough!"

Precious seconds of silence go by, the only sounds being Peter's gasping breaths, and finally Ludwig lets him go. "Get this damn doll out of my sight. I don't want it anywhere near me." He throws it in Peter's face and the three men begin to back away from Ludwig's bunk and make it towards the door.

"And Peter? If you get lonely tonight, perhaps try the doll out. She'll be the only one who will not get bored of the shameful excuse you call giving pleasure."

* * *

Ludwig fumes all evening until lights out is called. And even then, he's still furious about what the trio said. It doesn't really make sense, after all, he put them in their place. He logically has no reason to be angry. The German gets into bed, and eventually he is falling asleep, but as he falls asleep, a small bit of his mind that he will never fully acknowledge to himself wonders if maybe Müller was saying some truth, and his anger wasn't just because Müller had been speaking poorly of him. What if, somehow, Peter was right? Maybe Feliciana would never… because she'd say no to him, that she doesn't care about him enough.

But what does an Italian girl's opinion matter to a German officer?

* * *

 **A/N(2): Hi everyone, so sorry for not updating! My beta only recently finished school, and promptly went on vacation soon after. My beta** **only came back recently. I too also went on vacation. Fear not though, as I hope to update a few more times before the school year begins for me.**

 **I hope to update soon! See you then, and until the next update, you can always PM me! I'm always happy to talk. Thanks for all of the recent reviews:)**

 **^J^**

 **Translations and Explanations**

 ** _the doll:_** **this is a sex doll (think like the ones they have in Japan now) that supposedly Hitler wanted for the German soldiers to have when they went to France, so if they wanted to have sex, they wouldn't do it with the Frenchwomen, as they could get STDs. However, they were not quite human sized, and German soldiers were supposed to carry them in their bags, which they didn't like as they felt it would be embarrassing if they were caught by the enemy with an inflatable sex doll in their bag.**

 **One other thing. All of the information listed above is "true" in the sense that this is what the dolls are described to be like. However, there's been no found proof of such dolls existing, and after many years of looking into it, many have decided that this sex doll thing is actually just a hoax or a dramatized rumor, and Wikipedia will list it as such. I myself learned in world history that it was a real thing that Hitler did for his troops freshman year, as part of my history teacher telling us some of the "good" things Hitler did do* [ex: the autobahn (freeway)]. But for purposes of this story, we will pretend that they were a real thing, assuming they weren't.**

 ** _*no my old history teacher does not love Hitler/is not a Hitler sympathiser. He just wanted to show us how determined Hitler was for his "ultimate Aryan race". This included giving awards to women who would have certain amounts of children, and requiring everyone to excersise and making it easier to do so, among many other things. He also did this with Mussolini, who Hitler took quite a few ideas from, and Stalin. Please don't think I excuse what Hitler did._**

 ** _what a wonderful caricature of intimacy:_ lyric from the album _A Fever You Can't Sweat Out_ , the song "Build God, Then We'll Talk" by Panic! At the Disco. It just really suited the moment as I was writing while listening to P!AtD.**

 ** _Come si fa a farm entire meno solo, se si guards proprio come me, e io soon solo:_** **How are you supposed to make me feel less lonely, if you look just like me, and I am lonely? (Italian)**


	13. Chapter 13

It feels like years since Feliciana last saw Ludwig. She misses him, and her latest letter response from Amelia confirms just what she suspected. Both of them thinks she has a crush on the German soldier.

' _It is a terrible thing, I think, to be infatuated with a soldier. At least, that's what it feels like I am, infatuated with Ludwig. Do you think I like him romantically?_ ' she had written. She then described her feelings in depth, how she always was excited to see him, and felt proud whenever she made him smile and laugh, and how she sometimes daydreamed of kissing him, just to bring back a smile to his face again.

Amelia had written back, ' ** _I think so. It sounds terrible, but beautiful. But I suppose love is a beautifully terrible thing._** '

Feliciana began writing a new letter. ' _Do you suppose I am a bad person? For feeling this way for a man who is part of a campaign of hate, a man who is trying to entrap my beautiful country?'_

"Feliciana? What are you doing, scribbling away at a random piece of paper?"

The girl looks up, and sees her nonno. She hugs him happily, and he laughingly obliges. "Oh, hello, nonno! You're already back from speaking with Antonio?"

Her grandfather smiles. "Yes. He is going to room here for free, as long as he works here in exchange. He'll be the one cooking tonight. That will satisfy our Lovino, don't you think? He won't have to deal with the 'tomato bastard', as he oh-so-lovingly christened the Spanish boy."

"Get to work now, Feliciana! You can always scribble on papers later." her grandfather then heads into the kitchen, smiling paternally at her.

* * *

The day passes by uneventfully, until dinner. During lunch all the way to the beginning of dinner, she works by either taking orders or cooking, or occasionally giving people their food. But then, she takes over the bar, and begins to give people the drinks they want.

After all, nobody is stupid enough to attempt to touch her, even drunk. They all know and fear her grandfather. At least, until this particular night, when a group of off-duty German soldiers wander in.

"Hallo. Kann ich Dir helfen?"

Their eyes all widen. They didn't expect this, a pretty redhead to be speaking clear German. They begin raking their eyes on her body, starting on her face and going down. Her dress was a clingier one.

She glares. "I am not a piece of meat for you to stare at. Are you going to have something to drink or not? If not, then get out."

They all laugh. How cute! The Italian girl thinks she can intimidate them!

Some of the men do ask for drinks though, just so they can stay and taunt her.

"Hey Luddy. Wanna do something interesting for a change, or should I deal with her?" one man asks.

"Do whatever the hell you want, Müller. The girl is infinitely smarter than you."

Feliciana's eyes narrow, and she looks at "Luddy". That's when she recognizes him as her Ludwig, but he looks right past her. He has dark circles under his eyes, as though he hasn't been sleeping properly.

She glares. "Yes, Müller. I, too, would like to see how you deal with me."

"This one is fiery," another man mumbles.

"It may be entertaining to watch this."

"One drink on that she'll agree to sleep with him."

"No dice. She's more likely to choose me; I'm better looking than Müller."

"I'll bet a drink to that."

"So, my German speaking princess, what else can you say?" Müller says, attempting to butter up an angry Feliciana. "Can you say pretty things for us, perhaps in another language?"

"Sure," she says sweetly. "Casse-toi."

Müller frowns, but some of the other men's eyes widen. "What does that mean?"

She smiles prettily, and bats her eyelashes at him. "Why, it simply means 'fuck you' in French."

The men all laugh at Müller's stupidity. Müller gets angry. Who does this little Italian twerp think she is? He is a _Nazi_ , member of the great Aryan race, yet she doesn't cower? She dares to embarrass him? How dare she. His face goes an angry shade of red, and he is about to lunge for her, when a tall, green-eyed man comes over to stand next to Feliciana.

"¿Qué está pasando, Feliciana?" Antonio asks, speaking quietly so he knows the soldiers wouldn't understand or hear him.

She pretends she's shaken. "Quieren pelear conmigo. Yo creo que quieren tocarme."

"¿Por qué?"

"Yo les dije 'casse-toi', por que no me dejaron empaz. Creen que nomás estoy aquí por ellos."

Antonio's eyes blaze. He puts his arms around Feliciana protectively.

"This is my fiancée! Who do you all think you are, to flirt with a taken woman?" To prove his point, he kisses her full on the lips, making sure they all know who she belongs to.

"Control your woman," Müller says.

"Maybe you should control your eyes, before you attempt to educate anyone on who or what they control."

"Let's go, it's not fun here anymore," Müller says to the other men. Really, he just wants to save face before he gets degraded even more by this couple.

The soldiers all get up and begin leaving slowly, so they can all spread the fact around the compound that Müller had his ass handed to him by an Italian girl.

"I'll come back, and mark my words, girl, you'll regret you ever spoke to a Nazi like this," he says as they walk through the door.

"Come again soon," she says sweetly as they leave.

Ludwig lags as the last one, taking one glance at Feliciana before he goes, but she's not looking at him. She gazes at the man with love and adoration, and they are whispering to each other; she giggles at something he says.

 _Was I just a game to you?_ He wonders. _Were you really engaged to someone this whole time? But, you just seemed like you genuinely cared about me. I thought we could have…_

It matters not. They are from two different worlds. He is better than Italian girls from little towns. He will see her just one last time, to say goodbye. He has to show that he is figuratively the bigger person. Then, he can truly bring his country the pride and power it deserves, and make the world kneel to the Germans and the Aryan race.

* * *

"Thank you, Antonio," Feliciana breathes the moment the last one is out.

The other patrons, the Italian civilians, clap for them. A little victory over the Nazis, no matter how small, is still a victory. Even in North Italy, Mussolini's sympathizers do not agree with the Nazi regime here.

"Of course, Feliciana, we're friends. But come with me to the kitchen to tell me the whole thing, and tell Romeo to come and cover the bar. He's in the storage."

 _Later_

Feliciana finishes telling him what happened before he cut in to her rescue. "So you got angry that he was looking at your body, told them to get out if they didn't order, and that was before you told them 'fuck you'?"

"Yes," she responds. "He was a total asshole."

"I could tell."

Antonio loves Feliciana. She's like a little sister to him. And it made him angry, the way the men were treating her. But these are dangerous times. This kind of fight could get her tortured and killed.

"Feliciana, you dance with danger when you do this kind of thing," Antonio begins.

"Danger is a very good partner, talented and handsome. I enjoy dancing with him."

"Don't dance with him so much. How about spending some time with Safety?"

"He is a bore, and will not bring my country freedom."

"And neither will flirting with Danger."

Feliciana gets angry. "This conversation is over."

Antonio decides to pull out his ace card. "Then I will tell Lovino. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to know about this."

She pales slightly, but continues, steadfast. "Do tell him. He'd probably clap me on the back and tell me that I'm finally doing my part."

"Then I tell your abuelo."

"Okay then. You win. I will be more careful." She then leaves, and most likely goes home frustrated.

Antonio shakes his head as he watches her go. Feliciana, she's just too fiery for a war ridden country. One day, she'll get into even bigger trouble, and he won't be able to save her.

Feliciana is a little fire, and it's easy to get rid of one if you have the water to snuff it out, and the Germans certainly do.

* * *

"What the fuck happened today?" Lovino rages at Antonio.

Antonio turns to look at the angry Italian man.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

They're in Antonio's room, and all the Spaniard wants to change into his pajamas and go to sleep. It was a long day, and dealing with Feliciana's nonsense also tired him out. Lovino continues to fume at him. Antonio pulls out some clothes, and begins to strip. That shuts Lovino up.

"Bastard, what the fuck are you doing?" Lovino's voice cracks in the middle.

Antonio turns to face him, pulling on his pants first. "Obviously, I'm putting on clothes. This is my room. If you don't like it, you can go." His necklace glitters against his tanned chest.

Lovino splutters and blushes. "Fuck you, tomato bastard. What is this about you—you and Feliciana—"

Antonio rolls his eyes. "All fake."

"Then why would—"

"Ask Feliciana yourself. Then come back and you'll see."

Lovino stomps out of the room.

After a short time in Feliciana's room (at least, that's what Antonio assumed), he stomps back.

"Why the FUCK did you kiss her?" He rages angrily. Lovino continues to babble angrily in Italian.

"Are you jealous? I understand, I'm a pretty handsome man, if you know what I mean," Antonio smirks, his green eyes glittering mischievously.

Lovino hit him in the arm, but it doesn't hurt at all.

Antonio does sober up, though, and pats his bed for Lovino to sit next to him. The Italian does so grudgingly.

"What did Feliciana tell you?"

Lovino responds quickly with, "That these German bastards were flirting with her, so she got mad. You kissed her to pretend you two were engaged."

Antonio curses in Spanish. "She only told you the absolute basics. That's true, but she didn't mention how she told him 'casse-toi' when asked to say something else in a different language. She then told him what it meant, but he got angry and was most likely going to be violent. I saw from the kitchen, and then after talking to her in Spanish so they wouldn't understand, I told them we were engaged and that it was wrong for them to flirt with her. I kissed her to prove a point. So then they left, but not before he threatened her."

Lovino takes this in. "But do you care about her?"

"What do you mean? Of course I do. The same way I care about you and Romeo. We're friends."

Lovino looks away, fingering the cross he wears on chain.

* * *

 _One week later_

Ludwig has everything planned out in his head. He will walk into the cantina. Then, he'll speak to Feliciana. He will tell her he no longer wants to see her and he doesn't want to get between her and her fiancé. He will then walk out, and leave her in the past.

Things don't go as Ludwig planned, obviously.

The first two things on his list do, though. It's the third step that he never finishes. She was so happy to see him, that the moment they went out on a walk, she hugged him. He never hugs her back, so it wasn't like she was expecting him to hug her back. But she was just so happy to see him, he didn't want to tell her.

"I don't want us to be friends anymore. I don't need you."

She tilts her head. "I'm not sure I understand you, Ludwig. Did I do something wrong?"

"Please don't make this harder than what it has to be. It's wrong for me to be doing this, especially when you're engaged. And—"

Feliciana interrupts him, laughing. "You're so funny Ludwig! And so serious, too. You're a good man. No, I am not engaged. Let me explain."

She offers her arm, and he hesitantly links with her.

She then explains what happened, and Ludwig is just… he's not sure what he feels. He feels so light, as though the whole world was just tossed into a garbage bin and he was left with Feliciana, but also dreadfully nervous.

"Do you forgive me? Please say we can stay friends." Her pretty voice breaks through his thoughts.

"No, I'm sorry. Stupid Müller, as always, stirring up trouble. I should have known."

"Whatever he did to you, it was never as bad as what he was doing to me."

 _Because what he did to you was oh-so-bad, Feliciana._

She smiles at him happily. "So now you know."

"Yeah…" Ludwig anxiously scratches the back of his head.

"You're really funny, you know that?"

"Huh?"

"You were so concerned about my relationship status, it was almost like you were jealous—"

"I was," he admits blushingly.

She smirks at him. Then she stands on her tiptoes and kisses him deeply. "You never had to be. I'm all yours."

Ludwig is startled. Then he smiles, a real, genuine smile, and gathers Feliciana up in his arms. "That's good to know," he says, and then kisses her back.

* * *

 **Translations, Explanations, and Headcanons**

 ** _nonno:_** **grandfather (Italian)**

 ** _Hallo. Kann ich Dir helfen:_** **Hello. Can I help you? (German)**

 ** _Casse-toi:_** **fuck you (French)**

 ** _¿Qué está pasando, Feliciana?:_** **What is happening, Feliciana? (Spanish)**

 ** _Quieren pelear conmigo. Yo creo que quieren tocarme:_** **They want to fight with me. I think they want to touch me. (Spanish)**

 ** _¿Por qué?:_** **Why? (Spanish)**

 ** _Yo les dije 'casse-toi', por que no me dejaron empaz. Creen que nomás estoy aquí por ellos:_** **I said to them 'casse-toi', because they wouldn't leave me alone. They think I'm just here for them. (Spanish)**

 ** _abuelo:_** **grandfather (Spanish)**

 ** _On Antonio's Spanish:_** **I am not a Spaniard. I am Mexican-American. I don't speak Spaniard Spanish, I speak Mexican Spanish. What I mean is that sometimes, realistically speaking, the things I'll have Antonio say won't be correct in the sense that he wouldn't say that if he spoke Spanish to you. Think like American vs. England English. Both American and British people speak English, yet there are words that mean different things in respective countries or only exist in one country. The same applies with Spaniard and Mexican Spanish [(ex: "cake") Mexico: "pastel"; Spain "tarta"]. So please be aware of that when reading :)**

 **Antonio/Feliciana: headcanon that they have a very great sibling relationship, and that they're very close (to the point it sometimes makes Lovino jealous lol). I think that they'd be super close and defend each other as much as they can fullheartedly without even questioning the other (at least, until later). They just want the best for each other.**

 ** _cantina:_** **when I use "cantina" in this story, I mean like a Spanish-style cantina where you can drink. Italian cantinas are different. I don't have a better word though, for a cantina at this particular time.**


	14. Chapter 14

_French-Swiss Border_

The Dutchman is looking, looking, to see if anyone is following him or his siblings. He's had dealings with a Swiss man by working in his father's business. One day, right as the Germans began infesting themselves in Amsterdam, he decided to give him a deal.

The deal is that if it got too dangerous in Amsterdam for them, especially for his sister Emma, or even their little brother, then they would go over to Switzerland, a safe, neutral place. They'd get married, to guarantee Emma's safety along with his own. They would send most of their riches into a combined bank vault there in Switzerland, and would pay them one-quarter, along with merging their business with the Zwingli's. They will have people ready to help them, once inside of Switzerland, to get to the Zwingli's manor outside of Zürich. Emma would marry the Swiss man, and he would marry the Swiss man's younger half sister. And, since he has custody over their brother, automatically his brother should be allowed to stay wherever he is.

They just have to be able to cross into Switzerland first.

He's seen a picture of the girl, of Erika. She's only eighteen, two years older than his younger brother, compared to his twenty-three, almost twenty-four. He feels like a girl so pretty and so young should be able to choose someone closer to her age. But no matter. It's not like he could marry his brother off to the girl, that would automatically make him loose his safety. And worst case scenario, they have another cousin who they could marry him off to. Either way, he is tied to Erika. Not the worst fate in the world.

He felt the smartest thing to do was to do was to get there like a regular person would. They don't want to be caught, especially if they could potentially be recognized. But right now, with his siblings lagging behind, they are inviting people to deport them back to a Nazi-riddled Amsterdam.

"Emma, keep up, we have to cross quickly!" he hisses at his sister.

"Lars, if you hadn't insisted on bringing your damn bunny with you, maybe we'd already be across the Swiss border, and be able to get someone to bring us to the Zwingli manor! Tim has to keep chasing it everywhere!"

He rolls his eyes. Nijntje is the least of their problems. "Neither of you have the bond I do with Nijntje. Give her to me."

The bunny transfer is complete. "Look, there is the border. Basch told me it is relatively easy to get through on the Swiss side, as long as we speak about the Zwinglis. We just cannot get caught, do you hear me? Tim, Emma. There are German soldiers swarming the border, and—"

There is gunshots. He turns, and sees several men in the German military. One in particular stands out to him, the blonde one with slicked back hair and pale blue eyes, like ice. His eyes are cold and calculating. _This one_ , Lars thinks to himself, _is the one that stands between us and our freedom_.

"What do we have here?" one asks.

"I think they are trying to cross the border to get into Switzerland. But they were arguing about bunnies instead," another answers, pointing at the now shaking bunny in Lars' hands. Lars tries to gently soothe Nijntje.

 _Godamnit, Emma_ , he thinks to himself. _At least Tim and Emma are still behind the trees._

"We have family there," Lars says.

"Do you really? Who are they?"

He swallows. "I am afraid that that is none of your concern." Inconveniently, Emma pops up right behind him from trying to force Tim into walking a little faster, making the soldier's focus shift to her instead.

"Ooh, and who are you supposed to be?" a new one simpers at her, in an attempt to be flirtatious. He narrows his eyes at them. Emma might be on his absolute nerves and is the reason they're in this mess, but he doesn't want them eyeing her up.

"I'm sorry. My name is Emma Maes." She curtseys.

This is very nice and all, but he doesn't want to be doing this all day. He'll have to pay them off before they decide to take Emma as one of their treasures. She's his _sister_ , not a toy.

He hates to do this. Really, **really** , **_really_** hates to do this. He opens his mouth and says, "Let's make a deal. We'll give you all money. In exchange, you all leave us alone and pretend you've never seen us before." Lars lists a high price, one that divided will give each man a pretty penny's worth of money, and quite a few of the men seem to be nodding in agreement.

He takes one look at the slicked back blonde man, wondering what he'll say. It seems like that one is in charge, and depending what they say, they will either be safe or screwed. Because if they don't like the amount offered, they're screwed. Lars refuses to offer more.

After debating it for about a minute in his head, it seems that he agrees with the arrangement. "Tell us the price again," the man asks. Lars complies, and then the man nods.

"We will take this deal."

Lars hands him a small bag filled with money. The soldier takes it out and counts, very slowly. Once he's finished, he nods and signals for his men to come with him.

"You are lucky this time. But if we see you again, you will not." They then all walk away.

* * *

Later, when the men get back to their base for the end of their patrol, Ludwig is still fingering his share of the money that they got from the brother and sister.

"What's wrong?" a fellow soldier asks.

"Not sure," Ludwig admits. "I feel like we most likely could have demanded for more money."

"Why do you say that?"

"They just seemed… how do I say, like they had more money than what they let on. The boy was just so calm, and… I don't really know. I just feel like we just let so much money slip through our hands."

"I'm sure you're wrong, Luddy. But even if you were by some small miracle right, it doesn't really matter. I mean, it's not like they're important people or anything."

"True," Ludwig says. "Thank you for listening to my silly woman-like worries."

"Of course. Someone has to be smart around here. Don't worry about it."

* * *

 _outside Zürich, Switzerland_

Finally, they are here. Tim takes the honors and knocks on the front door. A young girl with jaggedly cut hair and a purple bow in her hair answers. She's wearing a pink dress.

"Ja?" she asks. Lars pales, then unbelievably to his younger siblings, he _blushes_. Lars doesn't blush, so who is this girl and what is she doing. "We are the Benelux siblings. Hello."

Her eyes widen, and then she smiles. "Hello," she says. "Come in, come in! We'll have our servant prepare warm baths for the three of you, immediately. I'll also show you around to where you'll be staying. Basch isn't here right now, but he will come in eventually after spending some time with his goats."

Emma stifles a laugh. Goats! This whole interaction is getting funnier by the minute. "Does he like bunnies too? If so, Lars will get along with him fabulously."

Erika turns around, her eyes widening. "You have a bunny? I adore bunnies! They are so cute!"

Lars blushes, internally pleased with this development, and Tim grins. "Yeah, but his bunny is a bit of an asshole, and it seems to only like Lars. Don't take it personally if it jumps out of your arms or something."

The Dutchman clears his throat. "Would you like to hold Nijntje? Don't listen to Tim."

She blushes, and her eyes widen. "Yes please!" After taking the bunny, it snuggles up to her, and makes itself comfortable in her arms, and she giggles.

"Lars is in heaven," Emma whispers to Tim, and he giggles in response. "It actually likes someone that isn't him!" Lars likes Erika that much more. If Nijntje likes Erika, then that's all the approval he needs.

"O-oh! Excuse my manners. I didn't even ask for your names or even introduce myself." "I mean," she continues, "you already knew my name, but I should still introduce myself properly."

As they walk up stairs and into a corridor, she introduces herself. "My name is Erika Lily Vogel-Zwingli. I am the younger sibling of Basch Zwingli, but you three already seem to know that."

"No, only Lars did. He's the one who's been writing to your brother," Emma says. "He wanted to keep you to himself."

Erika hums in shock. "Alright, I'll do introductions," Emma says, her eyes gleaming. She's a very friendly girl, and a teasing one at that. "The one with a scar on his forehead and who gave you his bunny earlier is Lars. He's the oldest and the one that's supposed to marry you. I'm Emma, the middle child. I'm supposed to marry your brother. The nut with blonde hair in front of his eyes is our youngest brother, Tim. We're the Benelux siblings."

She grins happily at the quiet girl, who has stopped in front of a room. "I'm pleased to meet all of you. I hope we will get along well," Erika responds cheerfully.

"Emma, this is your room. Basch's quarters are only a few doors down. If you could do me a favor, and leave the door slightly open, so he knows you're here and makes sure to greet you."

Emma nods in agreement, taking her things with her. "The maids should have set up your bath by now," the girl continues. "We'll see you at dinner, as we eat together."

* * *

Eventually, after showing Tim his rooms, Erika is left with Lars. She makes small talk about his bunny, and they also talk about flowers.

"I liked growing tulips," he tells her. "I think tulips are so beautiful," she agrees. "Will you take it up again here, when the time is right?" she asks. "Maybe," he says. He might not have the time, because of the merger and all of the nonsense that will come with it.

She stops in front of a door. "This is your room. But before you go in, I need to show you my room." The young girl guides him to another set of doors, across his set. "This is my room. If you have need of me, please come see me. I want us to get to know each other better, especially if we are supposed to be married."

He sighs. "I'm sorry for forcing you into a situation. Originally, it was just supposed to be Emma getting married, and Tim's custody would be transferred to her. I'd just tag along. But your brother said it be best if I was married off to you, just in case, and—"

She laughs. "I know all of that already. No, I just want it to be more real. I want us to be able to get along, and not hate each other. You understand, right?"

"I'll never hate anyone like you," slips out of his mouth before he can help it, and both blush.

"Well, anyway, I'm going to my room now," he stutters.

The girl nods, saying, "Yes. I will come and bring you to dinner when Basch comes home."

* * *

Basch eventually comes home, with Erika flying down the steps immediately to greet him. She runs into his arms, and he catches her, hugging her happily, despite his frowning face.

"Hello, Basch! I'm very happy to see you. Did you know—"

"I know," he says. "I got notice when I was still in the office, making sure the merger would be okay. We'll be married very soon, it seems," sighing at the last sentence.

"I am sure it will be alright. It is only a game of pretending, right? Only to the end of the war?"

Basch shakes his head. "Does not matter. At least for me. But even then, you are also stuck. It's not like we can just get rid of the Beneluxes personal connections with us at the end of the war. It's a game of pretending to the business world. Central Europe constantly looks at us; Zwingli is a powerful name, and so is Benelux. Merging companies is—"

Erika tunes him out. She doesn't like hearing this cold, calculating chatter that comes with running a business, and things about appearances to the public. It matters not to her. She thinks she'll be happy with Lars, and doesn't think they need to worry about faking anything towards the public.

"They aren't so bad. I think Emma is funny, and Lars has a pet bunny!" she says, interrupting whatever he's been saying. "Oh, and Tim is quite nice too," she says as and afterthought.

"I suppose he's completely won you over with his bunny," the Swiss man says sarcastically. She's always been drawn to cute animals.

The young girl ignores his comment too. "It's dinner time, right? It's time for them to join us, and for them to meet you for the first time."

"I can't wait," Basch says sarcastically. _Oh, but I do hope that he can be real with Emma,_ she worries in her mind.

* * *

 _One week later_

Basch made sure that everything could be ready so that as soon as the Benelux siblings arrived, all they had to do was get Emma, Lars, Erika, and himself would get fittings done with their clothes. He wanted it to be done as fast as possible, like ripping off a bandage. Today is the final fitting. Tomorrow, they will be practicing. The day after, a society wedding, filled with all of the proper people to see the wedding. It chokes his throat. He didn't imagine his life to be like this. Yet here he is, planning a double business wedding.

He knocks on his sister's door. "It's your brother," he says.

"You can come in," her voice pipes through the door.

She's standing in front of a three way mirror, and Basch takes a seat at the foot of her bed, so he can see her in the reflection. She looks up at him and smiles. It doesn't wholly reach her eyes.

"How do you feel?"

"Too young for this," she admits as she smoothes out her dress.

"Especially to that Dutch man," he mumbles. "What?" Erika says, her eyes narrowing. She knows what he said. He doesn't trust Lars, in terms of him being with her.

"He's not so bad, we get along quite well. And I get along with Emma too, which is better than what you can say. Didn't you startle her while changing the other day?"

He blushes. "In my defense, she didn't say not to come in."

"Except now she doesn't trust you. I trust Lars. He's nice. We're friends. But what of you and Emma? You have to become friends with her, especially if you want to keep up a reasonable pretense of love. I could do it, but can you? You like people to speak their minds. Go spend time with her, get to know her. She really is a nice person. I think she's in the kitchen." Erika is hoping for them to become friends (minimum) or even for them to fall in love (in her dreams), and is hoping that her brother will make the steps to do so

He laughs, a short sound. "When did you get smarter than me?"

She smiles at her brother, and he sees the reflection in the mirror.

"I just understand people better than you do sometimes. You're more jaded than I. I see the best, and you the worst. And you tend to forget that there is a best."

"Alright, I'll do as you say, silly goat." Talking to his sister always makes him feel better.

He then gets up and leaves. _Where is the kitchen again?_ he wonders. He never goes. Their few servants (like five, he makes his own bed and cleans his own room, and so does Erika at his insistance) prepare the food.

Something smells nice. He follows his nose, and ends up at the kitchen. _Oh, how nice_ , he thinks to himself. _Just where I wanted to be._

He also hears soft humming coming through the door. Basch pushes the door open, and sees a woman with a green ribbon tied in her hair, stirring something in a bowl. She's wearing a green blouse and jean pants, along with brown lace-up boots. She really is rather pretty, in an unassuming way.

"Emma?" he asks. She startles, and jumps, still holding the bowl in the crook of her left arm.

"Yes? I'm really sorry," she says, speaking as respectfully as she possibly can. His face falls slightly. He's seen her joking and laughing with her brothers and Erika, but to him she speaks to him with respect, as though she's trying to put distance between the two. It bothers him. Why does it bother him, though? Their marriage isn't even a real one of love, but one of convinence.

"I just really wanted waffles," she admits, biting her lip. "But I don't think you have a waffle iron." She looked everywhere, and teared up when she couldn't find one. She hasn't been very happy here, and this was her last hope.

He's wondering if he should chastise her for using ingredients they might need for real food, as there's food rationing. But she just looks so happy, and he knows that he should become friends with her. Especially because he doesn't want to disappoint Erika, among other things.

"Do you want us to get one?" The Belgian girl's face lights up. Her eyes gleam. Yes! He's really doing it, playing friendly. "It's really no—"

She shakes her head, the light dying. Maybe it's because she doesn't feel right saying yes. "No, it's okay. Really, I'm sorry. I'll make sure this could be used in some way."

"You know," he says stiffly, "you can be happy here, despite everything that's going on. If the waffle iron would make you feel more at home, then you can have a waffle iron."

She shakes her head no. She felt like she caused enough problems the last time she asked for a Belgian waffle iron back when she first moved to Holland. "Really, it's fine." She goes over to the stove instead, and starts preparing to fry instead.

"It's not going to be like home for a while. Or maybe ever," she whispers the last bit to herself, scooping out the dough.

Basch hears her, both parts, and gets angry. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean," she says, "this place is not home. It's very pretty, and large, but not home. My brother often spends time in the garden, planting tulips and talking to Erika, when not writing up papers for his company. They take care of Nijntje together. Tim is constantly studying, and Lars also has him teach him things about the company."

She continues with, "I'm all alone. I used to dance and sing with the poorer Belgian girls, and later Dutch girls in gardens and on the street, and it never mattered because my brothers were always pushed me out of the spotlight. I liked cooking too, so we never had a cook back home. Sometimes I would go drinking, with friends or by myself. I can't do that here. Everyone has a sense of purpose around her, but me."

"Lars gets to know Erika. He gets the chance to know her better. I don't have that luxury with you. I don't know you, I don't know what to think of you. I don't even think you like me, and—"

Basch interrupts her. "I do like you. I think you're alright. I am sorry that I don't talk to you; I have been very busy with the merging of Benelux and Zwingli." At least he told her a semitruth, more than what he tells most.

"Do you even know my full name?" she asks.

He startles, his face reddening. He never really bothered to really get to know about his future wife, the way Lars had for Erika and vice versa. He didn't care. The marriage wasn't real to him; why should he bother to get to know her? He'd thought it was odd at the time, but now he wishes he had done the same for her. "Isn't it Emma Benelux?"

She glares at him, shaking her head. "That's what I thought."

"Then what is your name?" he demands angrily.

"It's Emma Benelux Maes. Don't you know? You're gonna marry a Benelux bastard."

He sucks in a breath, trying not to let his expression show. She worded it that way on purpose, he knows. "That doesn't matter. You're still you. Still a Benelux sibling to the papers."

"You don't know me," she points out, choosing not to rip into his "you're still you" expression. "I've been raised like an average Belgian citizen for a third of my life. I didn't leave until I was seven, when my mother died. I'm more of an average person than anything else. I'm not what you expected."

"So then tell me about yourself!" he says angrily, his face going red.

She looks back at him, holding bowl with fried dough balls covered in a little bit of chocolate. She passes him the bowl. He glares at the dough balls, but takes one.

She sits down on a stool, and he takes a seat next to her. And slowly, she tells him things, and occasionally he interjects with his own commentary. A grin begins to show up on her face, and her eyes sparkle.

When the Belgian girl finishes, the Swiss man starts talking to her about himself, and she also occasionally interjects with her own comments. She ends up frazzling him with all of her silly remarks. He's never had anyone poke fun at him the way Emma does.

And that's how the two started to bond. Two days before their wedding. Erika was proud of her big brother. For trying, for giving Emma a chance she deserves.

* * *

 _Wedding Day_

 _Congratulations to Lars and Erika Benelux, and to Basch and Emma Zwingli._

It's over, it's over. They are finally assured safety, finally the merger is complete, accepted by both companies, now both based in Zürich, Switzerland.

The new couples and Tim walk up to the front door, and a servant opens it up for them, bowing to all of them.

"We've moved all of your things, just as you requested," one woman says to Basch.

He nods. "Thank you."

Earlier, they had been told that as of today, they would be moving into main suites on the east wing (Lars and Erika) and the west wing (Basch and Emma). Tim's room would remain in the same.

It was sort of awkward, because they all could sense that the servants were judging the situation. They knew why the Benelux siblings were here, they knew why their masters only got married recently. They would all have to pretend from now on in public, and convince them from things they might suspect.

At least at the wedding they were convincing. Many people congratulated them, told them they looked in love, etc. Their first time in public as wedded couples. They would have to do it again and again, to make sure that the scrutinizing public doesn't suspect a thing.

But this is how they were going to live from now on in the public eye.

* * *

 **Explanations**

 ** _Benelux Family Tree:_ Lars is the oldest. He is fully Dutch and was born in the Netherlands. Emma is the middle child, and a "love child" [I hate this term, but I don't know a better one, apologies] between Lars' father and her mother. She's half Dutch and Belgian and was born in Belgium. Tim is the youngest, born to Lars' parents (making him Lars' full ****brother, and Emma's half) and was born in Luxembourg. Emma was raised in a more down-to-earth home as a little girl until her mother died and she moved to The Netherlands, while Tim and Lars part of higher society naturally and have a different perspective on things compared to Emma. I say this because Belgium in the manga/anime is different from The Netherlands/Holland's attitudes towards life. Luxembourg looks up to The Netherlands/Holland and looks a lot like him as well (and also seems to like money just like his older brother), while Belgium has darker hair along with eyes in a different shade of green, so I felt this was the best way to express their family.**

 ** _Zwingli Family Tree:_ Basch is fully Swiss and was born in Switzerland. His father eventually remarried when he was very young to a woman from Lichtenstein, who later had Erika. **

**_Nijntje:_ it's canon that Lars has a bunny, but its name is not. So many just call it Nijntje.**

 **Benelux-Zwingli merger: so basically each family has a huge company, simply named after their respective last names. Benelux is the Benelux family's company based in The Netherlands(until the merger that happens here along with the two families marrying into the other's family), and Zwingli is the Zwingli's company based in Switzerland. These are two of the most powerful and richest companies through all of Europe. They used this merger to explain why the Beneluxes suddenly moved to Switzerland without any real notice.**


	15. Chapter 15

_Three weeks later- North Italy_

Ludwig came back after being temporarily sent to the French-Swiss border, and was currently going into town to meet with Feliciana. He's on break for the day, and after spending time on the border, he was tired and was more than ready to see her.

He missed her, after all.

Ludwig stops in a small shop that sells different baked goods, and he picks up the most chocolatey thing he can find and pays for it. He got some extra money, so he could afford to splurge a bit, even if he could make something better.

He takes it with him, and sees Feliciana in the cantina, talking to someone who has the same type of curl she has, but his curl is more angular in shape.

She looks up at the window, and sees him on the other side. He waves a little, and a huge grin comes on her face. she tells something to the man, and after a few moments, he nods and she walks out. The moment she's outside of the building, she runs to him and throws her arms around his neck and crosses her legs around his middle, happy to see him.

"I've missed you so much," she says, peppering his face with kisses.

He laughs. "Oh? Sure doesn't seem like it." He then puts her down after kissing her back deeply.

"I did bring you something, though," he says, raising up the box when they finish. The Italian girl lifts the lid, and when she sees what's inside, she grabs a bit and immediately starts eating it.

"More interested in that?" he jokes.

She laughs. "It's hard to get things that taste this good nowadays. They're so expensive."

Her eyebrows knit. "How did you ever afford this?"

"Let's go to that field you've taken me to before," he says. "I'll tell you all about what's happened in the last three weeks."

* * *

"What did they look like?" she asks, looking like she's thinking about it, like she might know something. Does she? He's a little

"The girl had shoulder length wavy hair, it was brown. She had green eyes. In her hair she had a green ribbon threaded through. Her brother was blonde, and his hair was styled into spikes in the front, with a scar on his forehead. He had green eyes too, and wore a blue and white striped scarf. He was carrying a white bunny."

Feliciana pulls out a folded paper from her apron. "This article caught my eye earlier, and I had planned to finish reading it later. The picture isn't color, obviously, but maybe these are the people you're talking about." She hands the paper to him, and he unfolds it, his eyes widening as he sees two photos, text underneath. One is of the man stands next to a young-looking girl, holding her hand, both seeming happy. The other is of the sister, standing with a man; it's hard to describe their expression.

"What does this paper say?" he demands. It's an Italian newspaper clipping; his skills aren't good enough to read it quite yet. A few words jump out at him, but not enough for the article to make sense.

She takes it back from him, and begins to read.

"' **Benelux-Zwingli Merger: Romantic and Corporate**

 ** _Zürich, Switzerland_.**

 _The originally Holland-placed company Benelux recently relocated to Zürich, Switzerland, where the Zwingli company is also located. Lars Benelux, head of Benelux, merged his company with the Swiss company Zwingli, a move that was months in advance in the works, it seems. Mr. Benelux had been seen shipping many of his things, along with his siblings' belongings, to the Zwingli family manor as far back as a year prior to the merger._

 _However, it seems that his ties with Zwingli are not only business, but pleasure as well, as he has married Erika Lily Benelux (née Vogel-Zwingli), younger half-sister of Basch Zwingli, who is head of the Zwingli company. Zwingli, for his part, married Benelux's younger half-sister, Emma Benelux Zwingli (née Maes) on the same day as his company partner. Lars Benelux and Emma Zwingli also has a younger brother named Tim Benelux, who is underage and thus Mr. Benelux (and now by extension, Mrs. Benelux) currently has custody over him._

 _All three Dutch siblings are currently working on getting their Swiss citizenship sorted out, but obviously they now have lives in Switzerland and would thus guarantee them citizenship, especially considering the state of Germany-occupied Holland._

 _Both companies, previous their merger, were quite powerful on their own and have quite the influence in the European corporate world. Now, however, with this merger, the Benelux-Zwingli merger seems to only mean even that the two men will have even more influence than ever.'"_

She takes a huge breath. "Do you mean you're saying that you caught two of the Benelux siblings crossing the French-Swiss border, and after getting money from Lars Benelux, head of Benelux company, you let them go? Oh, how kind of you, for not taking them in. Mr. Benelux was able to marry Mrs. Benelux. Look how in love they are! I wish I could have something like that." She smiles at him.

 _Do what?_ Ludwig wonders. _Marry Benelux? Look like you're in love with someone you most likely aren't? What about **me**?_

He's also enraged about the whole Benelux thing. He suspected, but never that he had met two of the _Benelux siblings_ , some of the richest children to live outside of Switzerland and Austria. They didn't even see the youngest, just the ones featured in the article. They should have taken them in instead, and they would have been able to get even bigger rewards, maybe even from one of the Führer's top aides.

But now, but _now_ , they're in Switzerland, and it's not like they could all just go to the Zwingli manor and just kidnap them. They're not even going to invade Switzerland at all.

His face grows red with anger, and he just sits there quietly, stewing with rage.

"Ludwig? Are you alright? Here, have some of the pastry you brought me," Feliciana says sweetly, placing the box in his lap.

He knocks it away. "That was not very nice of you," she admonishes him. He just glares angrily back at her.

"Just stop talking," he growls out at her.

She then glares at him, and gets up. She brushes crumbs off of her apron, begins to leave.

"Where are you going?" Ludwig asks.

"I thought you said you wanted me to not talk. So I'm leaving. I don't think I deserve this kind of attitude from you, especially when I was so excited to see you. Goodbye."

She then flips her braids away, her stubborn curl still sticking out of the braid. Feliciana leaves, Ludwig sitting in the flower field, shocked at Feliciana's nerve. And she didn't even leave a quarter of the pastry behind.


	16. Chapter 16

Cara Amelia:

I first apologize about how I constantly dump on you my problems with Ludwig. I'm so happy you listen to me. There is more I'd like to tell you, unfortunately.

I also hope that you are able to get on better with your dear Allen. I am sure you and him would make a lovely couple. That picture you sent me of you with him, you two looked beautiful together. It is a shame he's now out of your reach, since he is gone off and has enlisted. Do you write letters to him? Perhaps you could.

But what do I know? I am in love with someone who would like to raze my people to the ground. No matter your Allen's faults, he is still an American. He still fights for you, for your people. That is more than what I can say for Ludwig. He's not even Italian, which in these times doesn't particularly recommend him (not as though all Italians are recommended to begin with these days).

He came back recently, three weeks after he had been temporarily stationed around the French-Swiss border. I was _so_ happy to see him, especially after he left soon after we—you know. I really missed him. I was so pleased to know he cared about me. It still makes me laugh to think that he thought I would be engaged to Antonio, especially because we're friends.

I am still angry, though, about what Antonio implied about that one day that all of those soldiers came in to drink. I still believe I'm in the right, and I am glad you agree with me.

You already know all that though, so I suppose I will tell you the bad now. He came back from the French-Swiss border, and surprised me with the most chocolatey pastry he could find, considering the rationing and all of that. We spent an afternoon together, and he talked to me about this brother and sister who he saw crossing the border.

A long story short is that those two people who paid him and his group off to allow them to cross into Switzerland are actually part of a powerful Dutch-based company called Benelux, which now merged with another powerful Swiss-based company called Zwingli (they are now based in Zürich, Switzerland, under the name Benelux-Zwingli). Those siblings married the family in charge of the Zwingli company, and obviously it was so they could be guaranteed Swiss citizenship, away from a German-occupied Amsterdam. Automatically, as long as they can stay in Switzerland, they are safe. You know how neutral Switzerland is.

Obviously, Ludwig was torn up about letting them go for the money. I then commented that the Mr. Benelux, the man in charge of the Benelux company (I hope that makes sense, since he is still technically in charge of the Benelux-Zwingli company, along with Mr. Zwingli, the man in charge of the Zwingli company pre-merger) looked very in love with his new wife, the younger half sister of Mr. Zwingli. I said that I would like to be as happy as Mr. and the new Mrs. Benelux looked in the photo I showed him from a newspaper. For some reason, that angered him immensely.

I offered him some of the pastry, which he knocked away. He then basically told me to shut up angrily. So I got angry, and left. I really did miss him, but I didn't feel like I deserved the attitude he was giving me. I still feel like he was in the wrong.

Sometimes, he treats me poorly. Or he does things that aren't can see the Nazi in him. Other times, he is just the man that I care about greatly. I love him. He loves me too, I think. But sometimes, it feels like maybe I care more. I think I'm just paranoid. Am I being paranoid, or is it something more?

I'll move on from that. Our fight is yesterday, and I've not seen him since then, so I think that part will end there. My oldest brother, Lovino, constantly fights with Antonio. But I think he likes him. It's rather sweet. Lovino curses at him in Italian, and Antonio doesn't know Italian curse words, but _knows_ Lovi is cursing at him, yet he is just as sweet to Lovi as he is to the rest of us. And then Lovi gets all flustered because he's not very used to someone like Antonio.

For example:

Lovi: 'Che cazzo! Pomodoro bastardo.' Fuck you! Tomato bastard.

Antonio (smiling): 'Lovi, I don't know what you said, but I'm sure it wasn't very nice. It doesn't bother me that you curse at me, I'll still like you just the same.' (pats Lovi like he is a bunny)

Lovi (flustered, mumbling): 'Chigi. Leave me alone, pomodoro bastardo.' (walks away)

It's rather funny. Romeo is always out lately, most likely with village girls. Nonno went to go visit Nonna's grave recently, along with my parents. He seems pretty happy.

Neither Nonno or Lovino know about Ludwig. So far, Romeo has kept his promise to me and not told anyone, at least as far as I know.

However, I think Lovino suspects something. The same day I fought with Ludwig, I came back to take over the cantina from Romeo, after he took over for me. Lovino was also working, and he asked me what was I doing back(along with curses thrown in), and asked me why I was acting suspicious lately.

The conversation went as follows:

Lovino: "Are you seeing someone?"

Me (angrily): "No. And it matters not to you who I see or what I do."

[I will add in that that wasn't the best response, but please pity me, as I was angry about Ludwig at the time.]

Lovino: "Feliciana, you better goddamn tell me if you're seeing anyone. I'll be angrier if you don't tell me. I know you wouldn't be stupid enough to become interested in a Nazi, so you can tell me."

Me: "Well, I'm not seeing anyone, Nazi or otherwise. Do you not remember I once got into a fight with one in this very building? I despise their whole kind. I cannot believe you think so little of me." (I storm off)

I did not speak to him for the rest of the day, mostly because he's right. I am stupid for thinking I could ever do this, to expect anything out of him other than kisses. Maybe he doesn't even care about me as a person. Perhaps one day he'll pressure me into having sex with him, and then that's all he'll see out of me. And one day, he'll run out of condoms, but he won't tell me and I won't know because I'll just be happy to see him. Then, I could get pregnant and if I do I'll be abandoned because he won't want a bastard child that has _Italian_ blood in it, and I'll never see him again. But I keep coming back, because he doesn't _act_ like that will happen.

I've said too much, especially since I did promise you earlier on that I wouldn't spend too much time on the subject of Ludwig. I am sorry, cara Amelia. I promise I will do better

Te voglio bene!

 _Feliciana Alice Vargas_

* * *

 **A/N: Hello! I have missed publishing and writing. Everything that was published today was written during the month of July, along with a few other chapters meant for the future. I've been struggling to hear back from my beta, and long story short, I don't know what's going on with her. If anyone's interested in possibly beta-ing for me (including these published chapters from 13-16), please PM me, as I don't like the beta system here on ff and therefore would prefer emailing.**

 **I've started school so don't expect too many updates from me,** **unfortunately. Being an IB student takes a lot out of you. But as always, free feel to PM, review, etc. I hope to be back soon.**

 **^J^**

 **Translations and Explanations**

 _ **Che cazzo! Pomodoro bastardo:**_ **The fuck! Tomato bastard. (Italian)**

 ** _Te voglio bene:_ I love you (platonic/friendship/familial)**


	17. Chapter 17

Today is the day. Chun-Yan is finally arriving in Tournesol, Kansas. Yesterday, Marianne and Arthur went to go meet her.

Meanwhile, the Slavic siblings and Amelia are back on the Jones' property. They are all inside cleaning. Amelia is making the guest room suitable for her use, Kateryna and Natalya are cleaning the kitchen, and Ivan is attempting to clean anywhere else he can.

"Vanya, if you'd like, go back into the house," Kateryna tentatively suggests. Ivan is still in a terrible mood. He willingly talks to Kateryna, but only out of necessity. He refuses to speak to or address Amelia, and is ferociously angry with Natalya still.

"No," he says, staring blankly at the books and papers he is stacking haphazardly on the coffee table.

"You're just causing a mess," Natalya observes dryly. "Leave it to us. Go be useful outside."

Ivan glares angrily at her and Natalya just stares back at him, not backing down. With a huff, he does as she says and leaves, slamming the door behind him.

"I'm sorry," Amelia whispers quietly behind him as he goes.

* * *

Ivan is cleaning up the front yard (at least I know how to do that, he thinks bitterly to himself) when he sees Mr. and Mrs. Jones pull up. He sees them get out of the car and is cautious when they wave to him to come towards them.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Jones," he greets tentatively.

"Hello, Ivan," Mrs. Jones greets cheerfully. "This is Chun-Yan Wang. She'll be staying with us for a month. Would you mind getting her luggage from the back?"

"The boot," Mr. Jones yells out, already stepping in the front door, "It's in the boot."

Ivan does so, easily, and walks inside to put her things into the guest room.

Chun-Yan walks out of the car tentatively. She stretches happily, after sitting for so long. She smoothes out her black qipao dress and adjusts the pink flower hair clips in her braided buns. Looking around, she sees how blue the sky is… Just like Alfred's eyes. It is time to say goodbye, after this month. Do not forget him, but keep moving forward.

"Hello, Kansas," she whispers out loud, in accented English.

"How do you feel, Chun-Yan, dear?" Mrs. Jones asks, touching her shoulder gently as they walk towards the house. "Are you tired? Perhaps you'd like to take a nap before meeting Amelia and everyone else?"

"Yes, I would like that very much," Chun-Yan admits. "Thank you very much for having me. I had always wanted to come, but—"

"We understand. Arthur and I, we know. It's alright. At least you came."

* * *

Ivan carefully sets the luggage in the guest room, and takes a moment to admire how nice it looks. The bedding has a pale blue floral pattern, the walls are cream colored, and the curtains are a darker blue. It looks quaint. As he turns to go out, he bumps into someone rather short. As in, shorter than either of his sisters, Amelia, or anyone else.

He looks down, and sees a girl he's never seen before. "Woman" is a better word, he decides. She's older than him, probably even older than Kateryna, though she looks to be ageless. There is the sense that he is in the presence of an older woman. A different older from Kateryna's type. She has a pink flower in her hair, and is wearing a black dress-like thing.

"O-oh! I, I am sorry," he chokes out.

She smiles, so small it's hard to notice. "It is alright," the woman says, "I am Chun-Yan Wang. I was told this was my room. Did I go to the wrong room?"

"No, no. This is your room. I was just dropping off the luggage."

She nods and goes in. He leaves, and she closes the door behind him. For a brief moment, Ivan wonders how Amelia feels about her, then remembers he doesn't want to care about her anymore.

* * *

The Jones' go to Sunday church and the three siblings, plus Chun-Yan, are left alone. Kateryna is out back tending to her sunflower patch, along with the chamomile and cornflowers she's also attempting to grow. Even though it's December, Kateryna is still attempting (and succeeding) at growing flowers. The cornflowers are doing better, but the chamomile seems to not be doing as well as it had been recently.

"Oh, what is wrong, my dear flower?" she coos at it. "Please try to get better. I love you."

Meanwhile, Natalya is sewing, working on Kateryna's Christmas present. She's planning to embroider a pair of pants she grudgingly asked Amelia to buy for her. It's not that she doesn't have the money; the Belarusian girl simply doesn't like going up to pay. She would prefer just leaving the exact amount wanted for the item where the item was. They are overall pants that are a pale blue color, and they'll eventually end up with sunflowers embroidered on the ends.

Ivan is just sitting on the front porch of the house, pointedly not thinking about American girls, when he sees a figure move out of the door. It's Chun-Yan, and she spots him.

"Hello, where is Mr. and Mrs. Jones?" she asks, walking towards him.

"They went to church. They'll be back in time to make dinner." He closes his eyes and leans back, making the rocking chair he's sitting on begin to move.

"Oh. What should I do in the meantime?"

He cracks open one eye. "I don't know, that depends on you. My younger sister is inside sewing, and my older sister is in the back, tending to her flowers."

She nods and turns away, only to turn back. "I am sorry. I was rude. What is your name?"

"Ivan Braginsky."

"Ivan," she says, butchering the pronunciation.

He winces, and says, "Not like that. It's pronounced 'EE-VAHN'."

"I am sorry," she replies, her cheeks coloring. "EE-VAHN," she adds.

He nods, satisfied with her pronunciation, and closes his eyes once again.

"Will I see you again later today?" she asks.

The Russian man opens both eyes this time. "Today is Sunday. We all eat together Sunday. So yes, you will see me later." He closes his eyes with a finality that makes Chun-Yan realize that the conversation is over, whether or not she wanted it to be. She didn't. She is captivated by this extremely pale man with gem-like eyes.

"Goodbye, then, Ivan. I will see you at the dinner table later today."

* * *

The Joneses walk into the house, back from church, and the girls are about to go prepare dinner when Chun-Yan pops out of seemingly nowhere. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Jones," she says. She then turns to face Amelia, and introduces herself. "Hello. My name is Chun-Yan Wang. Who are you? Are you perhaps related to the people who live in the little house outside? You do not really look like them."

Amelia blanches. "Um, hi. I'm Amelia Jones. I live in this house."

"O-oh! I-I am sorry!" Chun-Yan splutters.

Mr. Jones intervenes, giving his daughter a look. "Is something wrong? Anything we can do for you?" he asks, addressing his question to Chun-Yan.

"Ivan told me that we would all eat dinner together. May I help in preparing it?" she asks sweetly.

Mrs. Jones chimes in, thrilled for a willing assistant. "Of course. Come over here."

Mr. Jones wanders away to settle in his chair and read a book. Amelia is still in shock. I don't exactly look like Ivan's family. Why would she say that?

* * *

Eventually, Amelia gets kicked out of the kitchen, her mom getting frustrated with her. Chun-Yan is infinitely better at cooking than Amelia; she's a natural, while Amelia has to work on her skills to become good. It's hard to deal with that when someone comes in and is her mom's dream version of what her cooking skills should've been.

She was told, "Just go, Amelia. Chun-Yan and I are fine without your help."

She didn't even bother to go talk to her dad. It's not like he wouldn't understand; he's constantly being banned from the kitchen (even if some of his desserts are actually pretty good, though she'll never admit it). She knows he wouldn't have any sympathy for her, most likely.

Amelia wanders away first to her room to pick out a random Captain America comic. Alfred had gotten her into them; he had loved the idea of Captain America from the first time he even saw a drawing of him. After he died, she had taken the comics as her own. She enjoyed them too, after all, even if her parents didn't particularly like the idea.

She debates settling on top of her bed or outside. Eventually, she decides her bed; it's windy and cold outside. She lies down on her belly and opens up the comic. She gets through a few pages before she can't take it anymore. She flips over, her long dress spread out over her bed. The American is simply too antsy, she feels trapped in a house where she doesn't seem needed anymore.

She looks all around her room, when her powder blue telephone catches her eye. She hasn't really used it in a while - her parents even temporarily disconnected it for a few years, until they thought she'd integrate herself back into the world.

"You're more than welcome to come stay with us if you want, Amelia. Ber and I love you, you're like the daughter we could never have," she recalls Tino telling her as he handed her their home phone number. "Just call us so we could set up the couch, or the work room, if necessary. Don't forget about us, okay? You're always welcome here, no matter the situation."

She gets up and fingers the paper with the number on it. Then, she sits down at her desk and gets out the new address book she got, the one with a floral pattern on it, and scrawls in the number, along with the inscription Tino+Berwald.

And then, after some hesitation, she gets a piece of paper from yesterday's purse, and places said paper in the address book.

"Amelia, dinner is ready!" her mother calls. "Please go get the siblings."

She does not respond. Instead, she carefully assesses her closet to see what she should potentially take with her in case she does end up taking up Tino's offer.

After a few moments, she walks out of the room and heads outside to fetch the three siblings.

There is a larger suitcase, sitting right in front of her closet, empty and waiting to be filled.

* * *

Chun-Yan is introduced to Kateryna and Natalya at the dinner table, yet she seems to have very little interest in them. The only people she particularly pays attention to are Mr. and Mrs. Jones and Ivan, even though Ivan seems to just be ignoring everyone.

Chun-Yan tries American soda for the first time absolutely hates it. "This is absolutely disgusting! How does anyone even enjoy this type of drink? I suppose only people without any type of decency would enjoy this drink." She glances at Amelia when making the last line.

Mr. and Mrs. Jones start laughing and talking about how much they hate the sugary drink, not even noticing as Amelia quietly gets up to dump out her soda. Yeah, and you loved Alfred, right?

Chun-Yan tells them about her family back home in China, and how recently a Thai man had come to their little village and was seemingly interested in her younger sister Chung-Lien.

Mrs. Jones absolutely adores the Chinese woman and keeps trying to make sure that she gets as much food as she wants, trying to even give her third helpings. "I do wish Alfred had been able to marry her. She would have been a perfect wife, mother, and daughter." She then admonishes Amelia for attempting to get another serving of the tuna casserole her mother and Chun-Yan had made. So Amelia gets up soon after that attempt and begins washing her dishes. She quickly finishes and excuses herself.

"I'm a little tired, so I'm going to go relax in my room for a while. But please, keep enjoying yourselves. See you tomorrow, I think. And Chun-Yan… I really hope you like it here in America," she says with none of the usual cheer that naturally wafts into her voice.

Natalya eyes the American girl carefully, noticing the sadness she's had since last night. She can sense that something's wrong and that it's more than just the huge argument with Ivan. The soda comment didn't exactly slide from her observations…

So after about what feels like a small eternity (really about six/seven minutes), Natalya also excuses herself. She says that she would like to relax, as she was working very hard all day cleaning, which isn't completely a lie. Mrs. Jones expresses concern for the Belarusian girl, but Natalya just waves it off as her body not relaxing enough.

"I would just like to take advantage of this free time I have right now. My body is just tired from everything I did today; I sometimes get ridiculously tired for no real reason. Some time relaxing after dinner will help me, and tomorrow I will be back to normal. I will also see you all tomorrow. Good-bye."

What an odd girl, Mr. Jones thinks to himself as he watches her go.

She quickly walks out of the dining room to the hallway where all of the rooms are, and she spots a room with the door closed but the light is on. She knocks on that door.

"Maman, I'm fine. Don't worry about me, I'm not sick," Amelia calls through the door, curtness underlying in her words.

She whispers, slightly sharp, "It is Natalya. Do you want to come with me to the house? I will make you a cup of tea."

Nothing happens.

"My siblings will still be occupied for a while longer. They will not leave before the meal is over. It will just be you and I."

Still nothing.

"I know that we didn't start out well… I want to change that. I promise, I have the best intents with this cup of tea."

The light goes out, and Amelia carefully opens the door wide enough to let her get through, but closed enough so nobody can't see what is really inside of it. Natalya skewers the door with a look, wondering what Amelia could possibly be hiding.

"Sure. Lead the way. Though I will tell you, I'm not much of a tea person."

* * *

"What is wrong? Do not attempt to lie to me."

Amelia sighs, smelling her tea, but not really drinking it. "Nothing really. My mom just hurts my feelings sometimes because she is naturally good at cooking, while I have to work carefully to keep my skills. She got mad at me and kicked me out of the kitchen and… She replaced me with Chun-Yan, since she's also a natural cook. Chun-Yan possesses all of the qualities my mom wants me to have. She wants me to be like a 'true European,' but I'm more like my dad. She doesn't really consider my dad European because he's from England."

She takes a huge swallow of the boiling tea, not even showing outward signs of pain from the heat. "Sorry for dumping all of this dumb stuff on you. I know there's better things you could have been doing."

Natalya waves it off. "It's fine. But is that all? Or do you still feel guilty about yesterday?"

Amelia stiffens. "I really do feel bad about the whole thing. There was so much more that I could have done, but I just let Allen do his thing. It was wrong, and I know it," she says. Pleadingly, she continues, "I'm sorry."

"Yet you made sure we wouldn't be run out of town for being 'commies', as he so lovingly called us," Natalya replies, brushing off the last part of Amelia's response.

"It's not like Ivan cares about that, though. He's right, I could have tried to do more."

"Does it matter what Ivan thinks? Is he even really right?" Natalya asks.

Amelia looks at the ground, her ankles crossed and fidgeting uncomfortably. "Of course it does. He's my friend. Or, at least, he was. I don't think he considers us friends now."

"Is that all?"

Amelia looks up and stares at the Belarusian girl.

"Perhaps that was too intrusive. But let me tell you something. He doesn't like not being able to protect us; he feels like that's betraying us. The whole night from the beginning was setting him on edge because he didn't like the way he had to depend on you; he would have liked it the other way around. He is also mad at me, for making him acknowledge truths he didn't want to see. It is alright, if you care more about him than friends." She glances up at the wall clock, seeing almost an hour has passed. She gets up, and Amelia follows suit. "If you do need someone to talk to, I am here. I know that I wasn't all that kind to you, but give me a chance, and perhaps we could become friends?"

Amelia's lips turn up, a smile ghosting on her face. "I like that idea. I've always admired you, Natalya, and I thought you were one of the most interesting people to ever come to Kansas, from the moment I set eyes on you. I hope we can become friends too."

The American girl walks out the door, but before she closes it, she waves goodbye.

Natalya's lips also turn up as Amelia closes the door. She sees the girl walk back into her house. The smile falls when she sees Ivan and Kateryna walking out of the back door, her big sister laughing while her big brother has a smile on his face, neither of them noticing the blonde.

Ivan's face falls when he sees her; his smile twists into a sneer. He says something unintelligible to her, which only makes Amelia duck her head down and wrap her arms around her middle before walking as quickly as she could into the back door.

Natalya locks both doors. She does not want to deal with this nonsense from Ivan. Enough is enough.

There is heavy knocking on the door. "Natalya, open the goddamn door," Ivan shouts.

"I'm not sure if I want to. Are you also going to be cruel to me, just as you are to Amelia? Because if you are, I don't want you in here. Or you, Kateryna, for that matter. You continue to enable Ivan's childishness. You are the oldest. Begin acting like it, and pull your rank."

She hears fast footsteps, and then the back door begins to shake. "NATALYA!"

"It's up to you two, but until then, you can wait in the cold."

* * *

Amelia quickly runs into her room before anyone sees her, tears streaming down her cheeks. She locks the door behind her.

She first gets out her pajamas, and lays them on her bed. She gets her book of Emily Dickinson poems together, Alfred's bomber jacket, his leather gloves, and some of her clothing. She'll pack her toiletries when she's in the bathroom. With unmatchable speed, she quickly packs the all of the things she just pulled out into two suitcases; one large one with all of the clothes in it, and one medium sized one with her Emily Dickinson book, where she'll pack a few other things.

Amelia is finishing packing up the larger one when she hears a knock on the door. Startled, she begins to quietly move the suitcases back into the closet and closes it.

"Yes?" she calls out, hoping she doesn't sound suspicious.

"It is Chun-Yan," the Chinese woman grandly calls out.

Of course it is. Amelia opens the door, then walks out of the room, closing the door behind her once again. She has her pajamas in hand, to go take a bath. "Can I help you, Chun-Yan? I'm a little tired, as I mentioned earlier."

"Your mother... is that the right word? There are so many ways to say the same thing in English… Anyway, she wanted to know if you were alright or if perhaps your soda gave you indigestion…? How you can drink such terrible things, I do not know. Perhaps it also makes you bloated and makes you gain too much weight. But—"

"Yes, I am fine. I'm sure my mother would be glad to know I am not dead yet. And even if I do become bloated or if I gain weight, I'm sure it'll be fine with her as long as I'm here to amuse you all. I am going to go use the bathroom now, so be sure to tell her that too, seeing as you're willing to work for her." Amelia then walks away from the woman, the door closed behind her.

Amelia takes a short bath, then goes on to gather her things in a train case and a cosmetic bag, including her shower cap and her toothbrush. It's not like anyone will notice; the only other person who will be using this bathroom is Chun-Yan.

She quickly takes her items into her room, only to see the door open with Chun-Yan sitting on her desk chair.

"What are you doing in here?" Amelia asks angrily, not even attempting to pretend she is going to be nice about the situation. Who does this woman think she is, just blatantly sitting in her room as though she's allowed to come and go as she pleases?

"I want to talk to you. I think we have gotten on a bad start, and I would like to fix that. You are Alfred's little sister, and he loved you greatly. I am interested in getting along with you."

Amelia sighs. "I'm not interested in getting to know you better when you decide to go into my room without permission. That makes me feel like I can't trust you, and it also makes me feel like you wanted to nose around my room without my permission. I'm not interested in getting to know you better just for Alfred's sake. If that's the only reason then I would rather you didn't get to know me at all."

She sees the tears beginning to well in the Chinese woman's eyes, but doesn't care. "I did want to get to know you, but I wanted to know you because you are a person, not because you used to be engaged to Alfred. But right now, I don't want you anywhere near me. So get out of my room. I don't even know why you even thought it was okay to come in! I think it's pretty clear you don't really like me, and right now, the feeling's mutual. Get out!" She points to the door.

The woman rushes out, tears beginning to fall down her face.

Amelia closes the door (not locking) behind her and begins to cry too.

* * *

Later there is insistent knocking on her bedroom door. She doesn't answer it, and then the door flaps open. It is her mother, and she is fuming.

"Why is Chun-Yan in her room crying?"

"Why are you blaming me?" Amelia asks flippantly.

"Because you are the only member of this household who could have made her cry. You have been nothing but cold to her all day. You have been rude, and you've now hurt her feelings."

"That's funny, coming from the same woman who has been having fun at my expense all day."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Amelia's standing now, hands on her hips.

"That's enough attitude out of you. Go apologize to Chun-Yan immediately, and I'll ignore the way you've been talking to me."

In the tone only a teenaged girl can summon, Amelia shoots back, "No, I don't think so."

Mrs. Jones, engulfed with rage, slaps Amelia. It does not physically hurt Amelia. It is the anger behind it that hurts her, and all of the memories of the past that come with it.

Amelia's eyes widen, and so do Mrs. Jones'.

"Amelia, I, I—" Amelia starts pushing Mrs. Jones out of the door, as gently as she can while still making sure her mother can't fight back her strength. The moment her mother is on the other side of the door, she closes and locks it. Then, as a precaution, she pushes her desk and chair on the front of the door.

"Amelia, ma cherie, please let me in, I'm sorry. It was just a reflex, I won't hurt you again." Mrs. Jones keeps begging and begging, but there is no response. After five minutes, she leaves.

"Is she alright? Is she maybe sick?" her husband asks her worriedly as she walks back into the living room.

Mrs. Jones nods in response to his first question, choosing to say nothing. In the morning, Amelia will be over it and they will still have the same relationship. She'll make Amelia's favorite chocolate croissants along with some nice coffee, Amelia's favorite type of breakfast.

Then, Amelia will forgive her. Right?

* * *

Amelia eventually hears even breathing from Chun-Yan's room, along with her parents' shower going (most likely her mother, as she can hear the television giving news). She gets the phone number from her address book and dials the number.

Eventually, a male voice answers. "Hello?" It's Tino, given from the bubbly voice.

"Hi Tino. It's Amelia. I have, um, a favor to ask you."

* * *

It's eleven at night and Amelia is leaving. She is in her pajamas, but has good outside shoes on instead of slippers, along with Alfred's bomber jacket. She has a note in her hand, along with a tack.

Carefully reaching out of her window, she places first the larger and then the smaller suitcase outside. Then, she zips up the jacket and pulls on the hood. She walks the short distance to the front door of the Slavic siblings' house. There, she puts the note and then pins it with the tack.

Natalya, it reads on the front.

Then, the girl quietly walks away from the small house, and goes back to the window. She closes as much as she can from the outside, and then takes her suitcases and begins walking south, leaving her house in the distance.

Finally, she stops walking as she sees a truck driving towards her - a blue one, with a tall, blonde man driving. He's wearing glasses. It's Berwald. He sees Amelia and stops, rolling down the window.

He grunts a hello. Amelia reaches into the window and hugs him tight. Berwald hugs her back.

Gratefully, she runs to the back, pulling her suitcases in, and then closing the door once she's inside. Berwald turns back and drives back into Tournesol proper.

* * *

 ** _sunflower:_ national flower of Ukraine**

 ** _chamomile:_ national flower of Russia (according to Wikipedia)**

 ** _cornflowers:_ national flower of Belarus**

 ** _Kateryna's Christmas present:_ it's supposed to look like Ukraine's canon outfit, plus a few extra details such as the sunflower embroidery**

 ** _'"Woman" is a better word. She's older than him, probably even older than Kateryna.':_ In terms of age, Natalya and Amelia are the same age, with Amelia being slightly older because of birthdays. Then, Ivan is three years older than them (and Alfred would be the same age as him, and just like Amelia and Natalya, he's slightly older than Ivan because of birthdays). Kateryna is two years older than Ivan. Chun-Yan is another two years older than Kateryna (just a vague idea of their ages).**

 ** _cooking skills:_ Obviously, France/Marianne and China/Chun-Yan would be good at cooking. It's also canon that in the gauken hetalia comic strips and anime episodes that they are in this food club (I'm remembering it as the gourmet club, but it's something along those lines). **

**Anyway, in 1950's America, it was heavily emphasized that women were to become really good housewives and stay home and keep house, like traditional gender roles. They had to be really good at all general housewife things, like cooking meals for the whole family. They were also taught by their mothers how to do so. But, the expectations were high in all areas, and it often drove many women to start self-medicating to deal with the pressure of being perfect by using alcohol. It was really hard, especially with how toxic the whole thing was that they were really only validated by their husband's approval and happiness.**

 **I headcanon that nyo America used to be really good at cooking (not naturally inclined, just after years of practice) until the 1960s, when she felt like everything all of her women had been subjected to unrealistic standards that she herself couldn't even meet unless she worked very hard. So she stopped, so that way there would be less pressure. This was also when second wave feminism took hold, so she felt like she should be doing what she wanted to do, and cooking certainly wasn't it.**

 ** _even if some of his desserts are actually pretty good:_ canon that England can actually cook (specifically sweets) and that they taste good. It's his regular food that's gross (America likes it though).**

 ** _Captain America comics:_ the first one came out in 1941 as propaganda to get America to join the war. Amelia used to buy them, read them, and then send them to Alfred so he could read them. Once he finished reading it, he would send it back, with him asking for her to please put them in his room.**

 ** _telephone:_ all American teens had phones and their own phone lines in their rooms in the 1950s. It was like us and our cells today.**

 ** _American soda:_ American soda used to be really sweet, even sweeter than it is today. Anyway, it was ridiculously sweet. You could still buy it.**

 ** _really consider my dad European because he's from England:_ I like to think of America as the product of English influence. It's everywhere, even in our government.**

 **England is referred to as the black sheep of Europe because it's so isolated since it's an island. I like to think of America as the black sheep of the world only because Americans are just so different from the rest of the world. We do things nobody else does, for better or worse. I think this would show up in the others' perspectives on Amelia/America and Arthur/England.**

 ** _Emily Dickinson:_ an American poet, one that I feel Amelia would particularly like in terms of this story. Also in terms of this story, Dickinson is Amelia's favorite American poet.**


	18. Chapter 18

Natalya sits up in the darkness of their room, just as Kateryna is about to climb into her bed.

"What? What is it now?"

"Something is wrong, but I am not sure what."

"Ivan?" Kateryna is not at all angry with what Natalya said earlier. She did deserve it. So, she got angry with Ivan… But felt so guilty after. He looked so betrayed after she chewed him out.

"Not sure."

"I'll go check."

Kateryna knocks on Ivan's door and he doesn't answer. She cracks open the door and he is fast asleep, a soft smile gracing his face for a change compared to his previous expressions of the day. She kisses his forehead and closes the door as she leaves.

"He's here."

"I'm not sure, but something feels wrong," Natalya insists.

"I'm quite tired. Do you think it will be okay if we continue this tomorrow?"

Natalya thinks about it, and then nods.

Kateryna hugs her, and Natalya obligingly hugs her back.

"Goodnight, my dear little sister."

"Goodnight."

* * *

Tino greets Berwald and Amelia outside. He hurriedly helps Amelia get in, anxiously running around to make sure everything will be okay.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty? Is the couch okay? More pillows? How about—?"

"I'll explain everything tomorrow morning, but for now, let's go to sleep. I'm really… Very tired. I'm sorry for making you guys come out so late just for me."

She hugs Tino and Berwald. "You guys are my heroes. Goodnight."

She then goes and settles herself into the couch, takes off her jacket and shoes, and once she covers herself, she promptly falls asleep.

"I think something happened with her family. Her parents went into town and came back home with a short, dark-haired woman today," Berwald whispers to Tino as they walk to their bedroom.

"What do you suppose we'll have to do?"

"Her parents can be selfish sometimes; they aren't exactly the perfect couple. Or the perfect parents, for that matter. We'll take care of her and keep her happy until she's ready to go home. That's all we can really do."

Tino kisses Berwald's cheek. "Then that's what we'll do." Their hands entwine, Tino squeezing Berwald's hand worriedly.

* * *

 _The Next Day_

The Belarusian girl always gets up with the dawn. She loves seeing the sun rise. She remembers when she used to make sure to treasure the sun, because she was never quite sure if Grandfather would eventually have an 'accident' arranged for her, at least, before he came up with his grand plan. He hadn't always quite sure what to do with her.

She opens the front door in her nightgown and greets the sun. All of a sudden she realizes that there's something on the front door.

Natalya, the paper says.

She opens it up and begins to read it, realizing this is what her gut instinct was telling her about last night. She walks inside, getting ready for the eventual chaos that will happen. When it does, she'll have to guide the whole household through it.

* * *

Marianne Bonnefoy-Jones is humming happily to herself. She's finishing up the chocolate croissants and just beginning to brew coffee. She's also heating up water for her husband's tea (and Chun-Yan's, she reminds herself). As everything is close to completion, she puts the croissants on a cooling rack.

Smiling cheerfully, she goes over to Amelia's room. Knocking, she whispers, "Amelia, ma chèrie, wake up. It's breakfast time, and I made your favorite chocolate croissants."

Nothing.

She tries again. Still nothing… The Frenchwoman begins to panic. Shaking the knob, nothing happens. The last time this happened, Alfred went to join the military.

" **ARTHUR** ," she wails. After many sounds of bumping into things, he finally arrives, his robe haphazardly wrapped around him.

"What? What is it? Why are you being so loud? Woman, answer me."

"Something's wrong."

"Obviously, if you're being this loud this early on—"

"No! With Amelia!" And then that's when Mrs. Jones breaks down and tells her husband what she did to their daughter last night.

* * *

Her scream wakes everyone else up. Kateryna, Ivan, and Chun-Yan - they all wake to Mrs. Jones' screech for her husband.

Natalya begins pulling on her purple dress, the one Ivan once told her suited her perfectly after giving it to her for their last Russian Christmas. She quickly then pulls on the black stockings and her black mary janes, and goes to the porch, waiting to see what will happen next.

Ivan groans and Kateryna instantly starts looking for her sister. When spotting her outside she visibly relaxes, but then goes to check up on Ivan.

She tells him to get dressed because they have no idea what happened. He nods grudgingly at her and closes the door. She does the same.

Meanwhile, inside the main house, Chun-Yan pulls on a blue qipao and promptly walks out of her room, only to find Mr. Jones glaring at his wife while Mrs. Jones is sobbing.

"Chun-Yan," Mr. Jones says curtly. "Go and get everyone else. Bring them here immediately."

She goes outside. The moment Natalya sees her approaching, she immediately calls for her siblings to go to the main house and then begins walking slowly towards her. Chun-Yan does not notice the folded pieces of paper that Natalya put into her left shoe. Kateryna and Ivan soon follow, Kateryna explaining that to Ivan about Natalya's feeling last night, and how she feels something is connected to it.

They all gather in front of a door; none of the siblings know why they are around this door.

Mr. Jones is angry. His face red, his bushy eyebrows twitching. He says, "I am only going to say this once. Does anyone know how to unlock this door?"

Nobody chooses to answer him. "Alright then. Does anyone have any idea how we can get into the room without using the door?"

Natalya answers him calmly. "Through the window."

"The window is closed," Mr. Jones bites out.

"You asked how you could get into the room without going through the door. This room has a window. Therefore, you go through the window if you can't use the door. If it's closed, break it. It's most likely easier to replace a window than a door."

"Ivan, come with me," Mr. Jones commands. The men go outside, and the women follow.

Ivan and Mr. Jones inspect the window. "It's open," Ivan announces.

"No, it's not," Mr. Jones says frustratedly.

"Yes, it is. Look," Ivan says. He points to a section of the window. "Look, right here. It's still open here. I can stick my little finger in here." He then demonstrates. "I can't open it, I would need more of my hand to be able to go in before I could push it up. Natalya, you could most likely push it open just a little more, and then I'd be able to open the window big enough for us to go through.

Natalya follows Ivan's directions, and then Ivan opens the window. Carefully, Natalya goes in, followed by Kateryna. Ivan climbs in next (albeit awkwardly), then Mr. Jones. Chun-Yan and Mrs. Jones go back inside to meet them on the other side of the doorway.

The room, at first glance, looks normal. Then they realize that the closet is open and looks unusually empty. The bed looks rumpled but not slept in; the covers are not undone, and the duvet is the only thing disorderly about it. There is a desk covering the front door, which Ivan then moves to its proper place at Mr. Jones' direction. The desk looks empty. The powder blue phone has dust covering it, except the finger markings made very recently.

"Amelia is gone," Mr. Jones says quietly as Kateryna opens the door for Mrs. Jones to come in. Chun-Yan is nowhere to be found.

"She planned her leaving. She called someone to take her, and packed accordingly. I bet if we checked the bathroom, her makeup and the like would all be gone," he continues. "What did you do?" he asks accusingly, turning on his wife.

"I—I—" she stutters, as she sheds a tear.

"She hurt Amelia's feelings," Natalya quietly breaks in.

"Excuse me?" the Englishman asks.

Natalya repeats herself. "She left me a note. And she left you one too."

She then gets the note from her shoe and gives it to the man. He reads the few lines written, before he glares at his wife. "Are you fucking kidding me, Marianne?"

She begins to cry again, and then the siblings dismiss themselves.

* * *

Ivan is outside in the small area where the chickens are, feeding them, when Natalya comes over.

He's been madly working all day. He worked in the fields until Kateryna kicked him out, fixed everything he could reasonably fix quickly, and now he's here, feeding the chickens.

"Are you alright?" she asks him.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Don't play games with me, big brother."

He drops all pretenses immediately. "What if I caused this? Maybe she's just lying to save my skin when I don't deserve it. I was so cruel to her. I was letting my pride get in the way."

He keeps listlessly tossing corn at the chickens until Natalya pulls him away, and drags him towards their front porch instead, eventually getting him to sit down at the kitchen table.

"Relax. It is almost dark. Look outside, it's dusk. Kateryna is probably going to come make dinner, as she's been attempting to console Mrs. Jones and even made them dinner."

He fidgets uncomfortably around in his chair.

"Let's go to your room," Natalya proposes. "The things you will tell me are of a private nature, and you should have privacy to tell me."

He nods silently and follows his little sister into his room.

"Spit it out, Vanya. Don't try to lie."

"You don't even like Amelia," Ivan protests.

"You don't know my life. Stop stalling."

He then starts talking to her, telling her about all of his guilt and how he knows he did wrong, and after a few minutes Natalya cuts him off.

"Let me tell you something. She told me that her fight with you, while it did still bother her, was not the whole reason why she left. It was her mother. I will not tell you more, because that's her place to tell you. Do not worry. She told me if she did leave, she'd be back in a week or so."

Natalya dusts off her dress. "She'll be back soon, and she's safe. I know you're worried but you have no real reason to be, I can promise you that."

She walks out the door, her lips curving up at her big brother, an odd expression on her normally stuffy queen-like strict face she makes. "I'm going to help Kateryna make dinner, as I'm sure she's tired from everything she's done all day."

Ivan nods and stares at his ceiling instead of actually looking at her. Maybe if we went looking for her, she'd be back and I could tell her that I am sorry, and she'll forgive me?

* * *

Mr. and Mrs. Jones are not speaking to each other. Curiously enough, it's Mrs. Jones who is begging for Mr. Jones' forgiveness instead of the other way around.

"It's not like we can go looking for her, she's already an adult and we cannot exactly force her to come back, as much as I'd like her here," Mr. Jones mumbles to himself. "I suppose we'll just have to wait until she wants to come home."

Mrs. Jones reaches for his arm, but he pulls it out of her reach, making sure she couldn't touch him if she tried.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for lack of uploading, but hoping to bring more in the future.**

 ** _She loves seeing the sun rise…:_ it's canon Belarus likes seeing the sun rise. I also read a text post saying she liked seeing the sun rise because she was never sure how much longer she'd live, so I wanted to include that in her character here. I like to think she lives her life the way she wants to, no holding back, so that no matter when she dies, she feels satisfied with what she did accomplish.**

 ** _powder blue phone has dust covering it, except the finger markings made very recently:_ Amelia stopped using her phone once Alfred's body came back from Japan, to the point where her parents had the number unplugged. They plugged it back in 1949.**


End file.
